Bloodstained Shadows Chronicles of a Lost Soul
by Calystea
Summary: We follow our Protagonist, Marc Fipps, in the four major parts of his life and 'unlife' on his quest for answers, personal freedom, forgiveness and finally revenge.
1. Scarlet Dawn Prologue

_Prologue_

_I will never forget this day._

_I will never forget his voice, as cold as ice. _

_I will never forget the sight, my companions in pain._

_I will never forget the feeling, my limbs growing numb._

_I will never forget the screams, my friends dying from my own hands. _

_"Frostmourne! Feast on their flesh! Devour their souls! For they shall become part of my army!"_

_Those are the only words I can clearly remember from that day. Only seconds later a blade pierced my body through my back. It felt as if the sword was completely made of ice. _

_All the shouting – suddenly gone. All the screams - gone. Even his voice - gone. Although I could still see it all. See his lips moving. Witness how the others died. The vision of him flickered, it seemed as if he was not present personally, leaving the image on the hill a mere illusion. _

_The pain brought me to my knees. Red liquid was pouring out of the hole in my chest. I felt dizzy, the loss of blood growing too be too much. The wind was sweeping through the trees near Tyr's Hand. The flags of the Scarlet Crusade were raised high up in the air. So near... but yet, so far. I looked up into the gloomy sky. Not a single cloud, yet everything was dark in these parts of the plaguelands. _

_I fell over onto the ground. My legs were not capable of carrying me anymore. A chill was going through me as if I'd been sucked into the ice cold blade just by looking at it once. Everything went black. Then there were only two things left, the darkness around me and the cold. The only thing I could do was lie there and wait, wait until it had consumed every little bit of me. _

_It felt as if I was falling into an abyss. _

_I felt hollow. _

_My legs became stiff. My arms wouldn't follow my commands anymore. Little did I know that these would be the last feelings I'd ever have. Had I known, I'd probably tried to embrace their purity more._

_I tried to remember the prayers I've been taught as an apprentice at the Crusade. _

_It was sad. _

_All I came up with were the stories of the Ashbringer and the battle cries against the Scourge. Some priest I became... _

_Seconds passed as ages. I'd lost the last bit of sense of time. I began wondering what Corren and Keira would be doing in this situation. But..., Keira was far away and Corren stood by my side, only seconds ago. I was sure somebody would patch me up before it was too late. Corren was a paladin of the Silver Hand. He saw everything. He would eventually come and pick me up. _

_All of a sudden the pain was gone. My wound stopped bleeding. What in the name of the Holy Light? Have I been saved or am I dead already? I can't recall whether I lay there for only moments or many hours._

_It's true, the pain had completely vanished. But I still could not move. Slowly, very slowly other feelings crept up into my mind. _

_I was hungry. _

_This was the moment when I first imagined I heard his voice inside my head. He whispered to me, calmly and gently. That I was strong. And that he could make me even stronger. He said I'd be his child. He'd take care of me. That I'd never have to feel lonely ever again because he'd stay with me forever. And he also said that the others were only trying to hold me back from becoming truly happy. _

_It was true. I have never been extremely popular. I have never had anyone looking after me, due to the death of my father and my mother who was formerly studying in Dalaran. Though I had found good friends somehow. But at that moment, they were dying right by my side, or probably... they were dead already. I'd been one of the first to fall. Strong the voice said... what a poor lie. I wasn't even able to protect myself, not to mention my friends. _

_I did not believe him. _

_Then the voice whispered once again. I should not worry. He would grant me powers beyond my wildest imagination. I was still in doubt. I knew the holy arts. Healing magic utmost, maybe one or two spells that could actually do damage against a foe. I was just a priest after all. _

_I rejected him. _

_The voice spoke up for a third time. But this time... it wasn't the gentle one from before anymore. It was wild and angry, shouting at me as if it wanted nothing more but to rip me apart. I should open my eyes and get up to my feet, for I would be a servant of the Lich King from now on! _

_Indeed I opened my eyes. Everything was blurry at first. Quickly I seized the first person in my view with my eyes. From this point onwards I knew there would be no turning back. Still I also knew, how I had never had a choice to make. _

_My mind was flooded by a feeling of hunger. The blind urge to eat. I fell into a rage consuming everything in my brain and in my very soul. I felt no pain, only hunger. Nothing else was left, not the wind on my face nor the ground below my feet. _

_The battle between the Scourge and the troop of the Scarlet Crusade had just started. It appeared I only had laid there for about half a minute although it had seemed endless to me. _

_My movements were slow and stiff, and it did not seem as if I was able to control my body, it moved from its own. _

_I heard the voice in my head again, but I did not listen. My surroundings cleared up more and more. I started to actually hear again. I heard the members of my former troop yelling. I heard bones break and screams of the defeated while the ghouls ate their flesh. _

_I moved forward into the fight, slowly but consistently. I did not know where I was going but something was drawing me towards it. _

_One of my former fellows suddenly stood in front of me, not any older than myself. His brown eyes staring at me wide open. A cleric just like me, though I hardly knew him as a person. He tried to speak to me. He seized my shoulders, shook me around, hoping I'd come to my senses. I can't recall what he said or yelled at me. I was just glaring through him. The voice in my head arose out of nowhere. Yelled at me I should kill. That I should kill an unworthy bastard like him. Again I disobeyed his orders. I shook the man off and walked on towards my unknown target. But he rushed up beside me and the fool he was, he grabbed my left arm, again yelling something at me. I shortly turned to him and with one swift strike of my left arm I hit him on the head before I even noticed what happened. I thought I heard bones break and he fell backwards. I had not known that I was able to do such things, to call on such violent strength. The voice in my head but only laughed - a fierce, evil laughter. _

_I strode on towards my unknown destination. _

_There it was again. The hunger! It's taking over my thoughts one by one. With great effort I gathered my last senses once again and fell on my knees screaming out loud. Suddenly the pain was back for just a short moment. It felt as if my body was falling into its parts, slowly and painfully. Then it came up again, the voice in my mind, once again kind and gentle. He told me that I would have to eat to avoid the pain. To ease the agony. I'd just have to eat, nothing more and nothing less. He also told me that it was my own fault that I had to suffer this right now. _

_I rejected him once again. _

_Quickly the other voice emerged, yelling at me, shouting at me. _

_My body moved on its own again. I got up to my feet and went on forward. _

_In a short distance I suddenly spotted him, Corren, fighting with a ghoul. He easily kept the creature at bay. It was clearly visible that he'd fought against many undead already. He did not notice me at first._

_I drew nearer, when he took a glance in my direction and recognized me. _

_He hit the ghoul in front of him once more so it was taken down and he was freed of his fight, then he let his guard down. Immediately he started rushing towards me. _

_His mace in his hand, he came running straight for me. I still draw nearer on my own ever so slowly. _

_He jumped, his warhammer rushed through the air. _

_He stood to my right side. Another ghoul wincing underneath the mighty weapon. The creature fell over backwards with its head squashed. _

_Corren then turned to me. The expression on his face was full of joy and relief. He said various things, about how glad he was that I was still alive, that he could have never forgiven himself if I would have died. Little did he know... _

_The voice in my head reacted according to the things he said. Told me how he would have eventually forgotten about me to save himself, that he was the one suppressing my real strength._

_I rejected the voice again, one final time. _

_It yelled back at me in my head in an instant. I couldn't hear anything of Corren anymore. He then suddenly embraced me. _

_I was pressed to his chest, the voice in my head screaming louder and louder. _

_"Ease the pain!" _

_My mind was overcome with rage, with pointless hatred, with the urge to kill. He yelled at me one more time, one final word. It was the last thing I heard or imagined as a human:_

"EAT!"

_I felt how I opened my mouth right next to Corren's neck. I myself yelled one last thing. I didn't realize what I was saying. I had already become a puppet of the Lich King. I yelled:_

"HUNGER!"

_Corren was paralyzed, like he was just realizing what was about to be happening. But it was too late._

_I bit straight into his throat. _

_I tasted blood and with it the end of my freedom._

_The red fluid was running wildly. The pain went away. Then everything blacked out. _

_This was the day I died. _


	2. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 1

_Chapter 1: _

Oh, I hate fishing. It's just so goddamn boring.

Okay..., I like spending my time at the Darrowmere Lake, but... fishing? I haven't caught a single thing since I arrived here hours ago. I know I should have went to the coast in Tirisfal. But on the other hand, the villagers of Brill often warned me of the murlocs living up there. And I know how weak I am. But here, at Darrowmere there are no such creatures, luckily for me.

Nevertheless sunset is drawing nearer and I should hurry home. Not to forget I promised Dad to meet him in front of the city gates to Lordaeron.

I quickly get up, gather my belongings and start to make my way towards the road. The area here is safe and pleasant. There are too many settlements around so no dangerous animals would gather here, the city of Andorhal being the largest, close by.

I reach the road linking Stratholme, the second biggest city, with our capital, Lordaeron City. Without delay I head west.

My family and I are originally from Northdale, yet my father became a paladin of the Silver Hand. He was close friends with Uther the Lightbringer, as they fought together many times. Whilst my father became stronger, he easily reached one of the higher ranks inside the Silver Hand and soon he would have a position right on the side of the king of Lordaeron in his personal guard. Then we moved to Brill, it was far more convenient also for my mother. She was a member of the Kirin Tor originally, but settled for my sake. Once I became old enough, she returned back to Dalaran for a few months. She was part of a magical research team, so while she was away the researches suffered a heavy setback. She promised me to be coming home soon.

I pass through the open fields, leaving farms behind me. I greet the guards of Andorhal as I see them. It can be handy if you always stay friendly with them as my father taught me once.

Sundown now approaches nonetheless the sun keeps smiling on and on. It is an incredibly warm day with almost no wind at all. Yet despite its beauty I am still disappointed with myself not having been able to catch a single fish. It won't be a problem in the end, we still have plenty of food at home, but I know that father would have been happy, he just loves fresh fish.

About half the way lies behind me and I can already spot the borders to the Tirisfal glades.

I hurry up a bit and after climbing a rather small hill I can also see the large outer walls of Lordaeron.

I can already imagine how he's standing there in front of the gate, tapping his foot waiting for me. He will be mad if I arrive late. On the other hand, on the way home he will probably forget about it already, like every time. He is a gentle father, even though he doesn't have much time for me. So I enjoy spending the time we've got together with him.

Though I'm a bit afraid... On our way he will surely ask if I have decided yet. He knows I don't want to, but he is right. I have to at some point. After all, he is a knight of the Silver Hand and I'm his son. I'm his heir. Still, I'm no good with a weapon. I tried, but I also almost killed the dog of our neighbors by accident that time.

I come up the road leading towards the city. No one there. Am I too early? Well, I guess I'll just wait here a moment or two. My father won't be late. He never is.

The minutes pass, nothing happens. He wouldn't go home on his own, that wouldn't be like him.

The gates are opening! There he finally comes!

The huge doors swing open slowly. Though despite my anxiety, no one is coming out, no one going in.

What? Where is he? And why...? Hesitantly I make up my mind to go into the city looking for him by myself. Something is feeling wrong..., very wrong.

If I go to the throne room, I should find other guards I could ask. My mind made up, I pass through the gates, directly heading to the guards' chambers. As I pass the second gate I see flower petals lying everywhere on the ground. Looks as if someone important has come here today. Maybe an embassy? At the end of this hallway there is the throne room. The door is still wide open, how unusual. I enter. It is completely empty. What is going on here? Where is everybody? A mark of blood is on the floor and on the seat of the king. What happened here?

I turn around. I don't exactly know why I am doing this. I have a strange feeling about all of it. I slowly leave the city. I hear fierce laughter from everywhere. I hear screams of pain. Parts of the city collapse as I walk pass them. What is this?

Suddenly flames are everywhere, bursting out of the stone ground. But still no dead bodies. Not even a single injured person. No one. Nothing.

Out of nowhere terror strikes me and I run out of the city directly towards my home in Brill.

I slam against the door as if it is locked. After gathering my torn senses I hurry to get into the house. I am breathing heavily.

"Anybody home?" I pause as my voice trembles, "Dad? Are you there?"

My heart is feeling as if it will burst out of my chest. I look into each room, nobody here. Where on earth is he?

I take another look into the kitchen and there I find him, sitting at the table.

"Thank goodness you are already here." I say in relief, breathing out heavily. He doesn't reply. "Are you okay, Dad?"

I hear a strange sound from him, something like a moaning or wincing. What's going on? Suddenly I don't want to get any closer, fear strikes me. What on earth? "D-d-dad?"

He slowly gets up from his chair, his arms and his head are hanging down loosely. I take a step backwards. He turns around to face me. Horror strikes me once again. Lumps of flesh are missing in his arms and his torso. His eyes are glaring empty, blood still dripping from his wounds. He slowly approaches me. I take another step backwards and I fall.

I'm lying on the floor shivering, the thing that looks like my father approaching me.

I scream.

I scream.

Sweat is dripping out of every pore. I find myself sitting up straight in my bed. That dream again. It feels so real, although I know that it's nothing like the things that have happened in reality.

I get out of bed and take a look out of the window. It's still deep at night. The guards of Hearthglen are just changing shifts. So it is probably shortly after one o'clock.

I love the moonlight at this time of the year. It feels as if it is softer during springtime.

Though I know I really should go back to sleep, after all... tomorrow is the last day for a long time that I can spend with Keira and Corren. They will leave tomorrow evening with the guarded caravan towards Dalaran. And by the end of the week, I suppose, I will have to leave here too.

But, this is the way I have chosen, these are the ways we all want to go. I'm sure we will reunite eventually.

I take a mug of water and go back to the window.

I've been the youngest of us three as long as I can remember. In fact the two were a kind of family for me, after the deaths of my mother and father. My name is Marc Fipps. I clearly see my image in the mug of water, my grey eyes staring at me, my long dark hair resting on my shoulders. I'm originally from Northdale. When I was fourteen years old, I moved to Brill together with my family. I usually spent my time in the woods of Tirisfal and in the area around Andorhal. My mother was a magician, member of the Kirin Tor, specialized in arcane research she once told me. She died not too long ago when Dalaran was destroyed. It took a while for me to realize that. My father would have been crushed. But he too had already died. He was killed during the assassination of King Terenas Menethil by his own son Arthas.

From that day on I've been alone ever since. As the family member of a knight of the Silver Hand I was allowed to stay in here Hearthglen for a while, though by now it's been roughly a year. Now everything has changed. The areas of Tirisfal are deserted. The regions to the south and east from here are only referred to as 'Plaguelands' and that rightfully. Stratholme and Andorhal, as well as Lordaeron itself, lie in ruins. Hearthglen and the prosperous city of Tyr's Hand lie under siege to the remaining troops of the Scourge.

The only feelings that were by my side at those times were despair and the hatred against the un-living.

But one day, not too long after my arrival at Hearthglen, I met those two. Corren is a tall-grown young man in his mid-twenties with long blonde hair, his eyes as blue as the sky. He has a bit of a stereotype paladin look to him, but it suits him well. He is a native from the kingdom of Lordaeron just as myself. He is perfectly built to be a paladin, accompanied also by the faith you need. Calm and gentle, those are the first two things that come into my mind when I think of him. Still I have never seen him without his two-handed mace. It bears the symbol of his family, a remainder of who he is and he is very fond of it. I look up to him like a little brother looks up to his elder, or maybe even like a son to his father. His aim is to join the remnants of the Silver Hand, I don't doubt that he would have been a far better son to my father than I could ever be.

The other one is a young mage named Keira. Her tan is a bit darker than that of most people at Hearthglen. Her hair is black and rather short. The green eyes of her give her a cat-like appearance. She is a bit smaller than myself and rather slim. She always wanted to go to Dalaran, since the destruction of the city she has been furious about helping building it up again. She practices every day in fire magic. In its far more destructive nature than arcane or ice, it fits her temper best.

We three have been best friends for about roughly a year now, it hurts to see everybody going into different directions, but I have to get myself together and focus on what lies ahead. I hope my father is proud of me after all, for I will become part of the Scarlet Crusade.

I have already met some former members of the Silver Hand here, even one or two who knew my father and speak only very high of him. I really have a lot to catch up to him. At the end of the week the ceremony will take place and I will officially be welcomed as an apprentice. It's only a small step.

I will become a priest. Okay, it's more of the medical part in the Crusade, but someone has to do it. And I'm no good with a weapon so I'll be happy when I master the few offensive spells every skilled priest knows around here. I sigh.

I drink up and go back to bed. I have to be fit for tomorrow.

Falling asleep again doesn't come easily.


	3. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 2

_Chapter 2:_

Fog is creeping up the hill into Hearthglen.

I woke up some minutes ago from the rain drops falling against my window. I slept uneasily, again haunted by my dreams. I would give anything to get rid of them. In short usually they are about the worst moments of my life. I guess I have to admit, I'm not good at coping with these sorts of things, so I'll probably have these dreams until I die.

The world outside the house is quiet today. I see some guards walking through the little village, but no one else. The poor guys standing up on the towers, they have a ten-hour shift. But I guess it doesn't matter anymore, they've been completely soaked with water by now. At least that would be what I would imagine when looking out there.

We want to go fishing today, at Darrowmere Lake. I hope it will clear up soon enough.

Probably it's dangerous going there, but we three never really care. After all, I am the one the least able to defend himself. Corren on the other hand fights far better while having someone to protect. Not that this would be surprising, he's a paladin after all, it's one of their best traits. Keira on the other hand is a bit reckless but I suppose she'd have the fewest problems dealing with the undead. Last week she went out of Hearthglen to collect herbs in the woods. Even though the guards do not allow us leaving the town on our own, she got even to the outskirts of Andorhal before anybody had noticed and a search troop was sent out looking for her. There she was ambushed by a group of ghouls, she told us later on. If I can believe her, and I'm quite sure of that, she blasted them away in an instant. Keira is not the person to make fun with such matters.

The city of Andorhal was once a flourishing trading place. The market was famous for the rich amount of goods passing through every day. But now the city lies in ruins just like everything in Lordaeron, ruins full of uttering ghouls and skeletal soldiers. Some people even say there is a lich residing inside the town hall which has been attracted by all the other undead. The Scarlet Crusade wants to clear out Andorhal soon. The Ashbringer will make his way to the ruins of Stratholme in the next weeks. After returning from there, they want to clean up Northdale, Corin's Crossing, Darrowmere, Andorhal, Brill and the ruins of the Capital City. That really would be quite something.

I hear the moaning of the undead nearby, the wind is carrying it into the town. Soon there will be another attack. I'm not too worried though. The ghouls are no match for our guards, no matter their numbers.

I've been standing here for half an hour now, staring blindly up into the sky. It hasn't changed much and it doesn't seem like clearing up either. I guess we have to go fishing in the rain.

I take my clothes out of the closet. This is one of the last days I will be wearing my normal clothing. Three days from now everything will change and I'll have to wear the robes of the Scarlet Crusade instead.

I'm genuinely excited.

I'm barely half dressed when I hear a knocking on the door downstairs. I yell that they should just let themselves in on their own.

The front door creaks while opening. Two cloaked figures step into the room shortly afterwards. I know who they are - it took them quite long to arrive here actually.

"Hurry up, up there! We're waiting for you after all. We're all set up to get going, I even got some bait." Corren proudly raises his hand. It's full of extraordinarily long worms. Keira looks at them in disgust. Those worms are usually only found in dead bodies, I'm quite sure Corren gathered them while he was on his shift yesterday.

I take my cloak out of the closet and make my way downstairs. "It took you two quite some time to arrive here." I smirk. "It's good to see you."

We don't want to attract too much attention from the guards on their duty so we have to head out of the village quickly and quietly. We won't be able to talk for quite a while. But the rain outside is so loud one can't even hear a single word of each other, so it doesn't really matter all that much. Swiftly we cross the open area in front of the blacksmith and make our way directly to the gateway and out of Hearthglen.

For our sake, Corren didn't need to bribe any of the guards at the front gate, he just told them we are scouts doing a field trip for somebody higher up. Soon we are on our way down the hill and passing the other guard tower, as well as the small outpost at the hill's footing. It's still quite a way to Darrowmere Lake though. Nevertheless we slow down after we reach the road in a fair distance to the outpost. We also start talking at least we try to. For now we can talk loudly and freely without attracting too much attention and without anyone noticing that we aren't your typical scout on duty.

Keira starts off by telling us the story of the ambush last week again. How she blasted away the ghouls with only one single spell. She tells us how amusing it is to watch flaming ghouls falling apart. But actually I don't believe her on that point. I suppose she was standing there just looking disgusted. Imagining her face slightly distorting makes me laugh out loud. "What's up, MARC? Anything you want to share with me?" It bursts out of her as she draws closer to me with her typical aggressive face. Her green eyes making her look even more like a cat in such moments. Nothing unusual for her to react in this kind of fashion, her temper is quite explosive. Yet her aggressive looks so close to my face only make me laugh even more. "No, no it's noooooothing, Keira..., really."

Corren can just shake his head at us two. He doesn't understand how I can laugh about such things, he even looks rather annoyed by it. And actually I don't know either, but well, I just can't take Keira serious when she acts up like this.

Corren on the other hand is more the calm type of person, quite the opposite to Keira. He also never lets his guard down. Even though we are strolling along the road now he has his hammer clutched in his fist, ready to take down every possible foe that could come attacking us all of a sudden, alive and undead the same.

After Keira has finally calmed down again she promises us to show us her new developed 'blast wave' as she calls it. She already admitted that the name is more or less a rip off of somebody in Hearthglen.

I envy her a bit for being able to use such strong fire magic, but well, I also envy Corren for being able to control his hammer without killing innocent bystanders. At the moment I am fairly useless in case of an attack. I hope, no..., I beg to God that this will change when I have joined the Crusade.

Keira continues to talk for the whole rest of the way, as for women and especially her, typical.

I, on the other hand, fall to my thoughts. How great my friends are and how useless I have been till now. As we reach our favorite fishing site at Darrowmere Lake several minutes later, I'm totally absorbed by my usual negative thinking. It's no use, I couldn't rescue anyone. Why did I sign up with the Scarlet Crusade in the first pla...?

Corren bumps into me, looking at me harshly. He leans in a little bit closer and whispers. "Stop thinking things like that, idiot!" He knows the face I make when I'm having down-times, Keira doesn't.

I quickly try to gather myself and reply with a simple, "Thank you", then I smile at him, showing that he made me snap out of it once again. He often tells me that I'll find my way and I just have to believe in myself. Being me makes this harder than it sounds, but I'll manage – somehow I hope.

Over all of this we didn't even notice when the rain had stopped.

Keira and I sit down while Corren prepares two fishing rods with bait. He hands me one of them and we put the bait into the water. Keira doesn't like fish therefore she refuses to fish with us. If I'm honest I also don't like fishing, well at least when I'm alone. I kinda think of it as fun when Corren and Keira are around.

At first we are quiet for a moment, just gazing at the lake. Keira is the first to speak up, but she's rapidly called back by Corren, "Stop it - you're chasing the fish away!" I can't stop myself from giggling. After that her temper rises a bit, but not for long, also just as usual.

She calms down very easily today probably because she does not want to end this day with any grief left behind.

"So... today we say goodbye?" She asks us as her voice is shacking, something I never heard from her before. She is looking at Corren and me and it seems as if she really is close to tears. "I know that it's been merely a year and I know that I'm goin' to do what I've always wanted, but... I don't want to leave y..." She almost starts crying when Corren interrupts her "Shhhhh, we all chose our path, it won't be easy, but we have to stand up for the things we wanted to do." He doesn't take a single look in our direction as he is still staring at the lake. Keira seems to be a bit frustrated from his answer as a pair of tears finally drop down from her cheeks.

Just in the moment I want to speak up, Corren raises himself and steps over to her. He gently wipes away the tears on her face, "Don't cry Keira, it won't be for long. The holy light will protect us, I'm sure of it. Just have faith - we will meet up again and everything will be fine." She smiles for an instance. She doesn't believe in the 'holy light' as Corren calls it, but if she said that now, it would only break his heart. The two look deep into each other's eyes.

I like it when they have these warm looks on their faces, but this time it only makes me feel lonely.

I wouldn't want to say the day was wasted, but we didn't catch a single fish in the end. We also didn't talk that much. Everybody was saying his salute and his prayers in silence. We all do not want this day to end, yet Nozdormu does not approve of our wishes, so we have to move on after several hours.

As we start to make our way back, Keira suddenly starts to break the silence again. She reminds us that she promised us to show her new spell so we take a short detour to the outskirts of Andorhal.

"Wait here..." she says to Corren and me with a wink. She runs off into the ruins and soon we hear the uttering of the undead residing here. Keira comes running back laughing, she still says the ghouls make funny sounds although she also describes them as disgusting. Somehow I just think she's a bit crazy, though the good kind.

She stops about thirty meters in front of us, so we can see it all clearly. The ghouls come charging at her. I notice how Corren seizes the hammer in his fingers, ready to interfere and save her if he must. At first she makes an ice nova. The ghouls are frozen in their tracks about an arm's length away from her. Corren almost jumps in there, he can barely hold back any longer. Keira makes fun of the ghouls which are reaching for her but can't get any closer. I for myself, pity them, the poor creatures, once men and women, as proud as any of us, now turned into these uttering lumps of mindless flesh.

"KEIRA!" Corren yells. He is pressing her so she doesn't endanger herself any longer.

"Yes, yes, I'll get on with it. Sheesh. I was having fun here, mister!" Her tone is nagging. She mumbles something and a fiery explosion emits from her.

Corren and I feel the huge heat even at our position and the ghouls next to Keira are reduced to bare ashes. "Wow" I admit silently with an open mouth staring at the burned down undead. Keira comes back to us, jumping and smiling. "It's a... blast..., isn't it?" She seems very proud of her spell. "Wow, you're getting better and better!" I'm impressed. Corren for his part only remains silent offering her a reproachful look. I can't say I wasn't expecting that.

On our way from Andorhal to Hearthglen Keira then tells me again about the five great dragon aspects. About the things they represent, about their kind and about Neltharion's fall from grace. I love it when she tells me stories about them. Before I met her I didn't know anything about all of this. She says that if I want to become a priest I should honour Alexstraza, head of the red dragon flight, binderin of life itself. But this is also the point where Corren usually interferes. I should worthy only the holy light and not such nonsense as dragons as he says. The two often fight about this issue. Corren doesn't believe in the five aspects, but Keira remains on her point pressing that she has already seen one of them, even if only from afar, Malygos, head of the blue flight.

I can't hold back and point out that I find Nozdormu and Neltharion interesting as well. Keira seizes my shoulder with her hand. "You should be careful what you say, young priest. You shouldn't interfere with something as wicked as time or as cruel as death."

Her words give me a shiver.

"Marc, I know you think this is fascinating, and I'm sure you believe in it, being torn into all of this by Keira. But be sure to never mention this while you're an apprentice. It will only harm you and your studies for the Scarlet Crusade." I know right now I look a bit annoyed about him always trying to tell me what I should do. "Just be careful with this knowledge." He adds and I nod shortly in response, I feel as if I'm a twelve-year-old talking to his father when Corren acts like this.

I wish I could see one of the aspects just once.

We have already reached the outer gates of Hearthglen again. Corren and Keira are pressing to go faster. The guards had a shift change while we were gone and no one was suspecting anything, nothing unusual with us three returning from the woods. We head directly to the small marketplace in front of the blacksmith. "Oh, the caravan is already here. Damn we have to hurry up and get our stuff." Keira bursts out.

Corren goes to the head of the caravan asking how much time they have before leaving. He returns to us with a sad face, "Well.. Keira and I have to get going already, that guy meant they were only waiting for us two." Keira immediately runs off to her house getting her bag. Corren smiles at me and says "Just stay here a moment, we'll get back to you before leaving."

"Okay", I'm not able to give more of a response.

Keira is back after about five minutes, she had everything gathered and packed up already.

"I've got something for you." she announces. "Now open your hand." I do as she says, usually she hates surprises, but she always wants to surprise others. She gives me a kind of necklace, it feels cold in my hand and has a pointy end. I open my palm again and see something that looks like a tooth. "It's from a real dragon!" she winks at me. "Keep it close, it's something reeeally rare." It looks strange to me, no dents to it whatsoever, though I guess it still could be of a tiger or bear.

"I will." I reply with a forced smile.

It seems as if Corren is ready too, he slowly comes back from his house.

He stretches out his arm holding a book. "This is for you, so you won't forget us until we meet up again." I look at it for a short moment before eagerly opening it only to see what this book is about. I find my answer on page three. 'The Holy Light and its Righteous Ways', yes he really did present me with this. It feels a bit like crashing into a wall, but well I expected something like that in the first place.

"We have to get going now, Marc." Keira forces a smile. I give them a sad face.

"Well... you have to." I hug Keira.

"Live up to your dreams, young priest. The red dragon flight will be watching over you." she whispers into my ear.

Corren smiles at me like a big brother, wishing me good luck and only the best for the future.

"We will meet again soon" he promises. "Farewell, I believe in you, Marc"

Now I stand here, both of them moving to the caravan, but still taking a look or two back to where I'm standing. They are waving. I slowly walk backwards into the direction of my home.

As the two reach the others, the caravan instantly starts moving, leaving no time to think, no time for regret. I turn around and walk the last meters normally. I open the heavy front door and go inside. I make my way upstairs and go directly to the window trying to see the rest of the caravan moving out of the town.

Now I stand here, alone. The book and the necklace resting in my trembling hands.

It looks like rain again tonight.


	4. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 3

_Chapter 3: _

The last two days did not pass easily. I did only little more than standing at my window and staring at the sky for hours. The day after the departure of the caravan was again full of rain. But yesterday it cleared up for once.

As a child I loved the clear blue sky of these areas, but after the Scourge came over this land even nature itself has been altered at its core. The trees in the forests have strange mutations, green fluid is dripping out of the branches and some of them even look like screaming faces. The grass has turned brown, looks dead or burned. And in some areas, in front of Stratholme for instance, the mushrooms grew to gigantic sizes overshadowing even the trees. Some say these mushrooms feed on blood therefore they only grow so big now in places where a lot of blood was shed.

Even the sky has changed color. Yet we don't exactly know why, some people think it's because of the spores of the huge fungi, but well, they just guess. We all just guess what exactly happened. All we know for the moment is that the once blue sky now has a tone of light brown, almost orange.

I feel sad for the animals in this area. This strange magic, we just call it plague, did not only afflict humans, but also the animals in these lands. Now the wolves and bears roam around suffering, their flesh rotting as they breath. The pain of it all making them more aggressive than usual. It's more or less a miracle we didn't run into one or two of them some days ago when we went fishing.

But nature is making its stand already. I heard rumors that in the lake near the destroyed village of Corin's Crossing more and more water elementals have been spotted.

I hope that they are not just going crazy like the rest of the wildlife does.

I turn around from the window and walk to the little table at the wall next to my bed. I prepared everything for the departure later on. My scarlet robes are already placed on the table so I can change quickly when they call upon me. The guards told me to stay inside the house until I am summoned, last night there was another attack of the ghouls, this time the group of them was bigger than ever. Usually they attack in groups of five to ten, last night there were at least twenty.

I still have to thank the young master Fordring for letting me stay here in Hearthglen for so long. I actually don't want to leave, but I feel useless as always, I can't help anybody around here.

On the other hand I'm excited to go to the Scarlet Monastery. Some of the heroes of the crusade live there, the mighty warrior Herod, the arcanist Doan and the Mograines, the Ashbringer himself with his sons.

The Scarlet Crusade hasn't existed for long, yet there have already risen such great heroes amongst their ranks in the fight against the Scourge. I hope I'll find my way, my destiny there.

I haven't eaten for two days now, Corren's and Keira's departure left a mark that's for sure. I can just hope the field trip of the Crusade will be here soon.

I'm anxious to leave.

I stare a few moments at the robes lying in front of me then I finally decide to put them on.

The cloth smells good, the clothes are rather new. I go downstairs to the front door. I know that two guards are standing in front of my house, just like everywhere.

I open the door and take a look left and right, the guards greet me friendly but the tone is somewhat annoyed. They probably think I want to wander off somewhere. My first question for them is how long it will take the scarlet field trip to arrive here. "Well, I don't know, but I'm sure they still need a while. I would guess they started off at Tyr's Hand maybe an hour ago." the guard replies. I take a look at the big clock of the town hall and notice it's not even one o'clock in the afternoon. Still this early, I lost my sense of time. I'm staring a bit bewildered at the town hall. I don't want to know what the guards must be thinking according to my looks.

I gather myself then I ask if I could go and see lord Fordring. They hesitate, telling me I'm not allowed to walk around alone, not even in the village. I roll my eyes and ask if one of the two could escort me on the way to the landlord. They agree and one of my protectors steps forward.

Actually it's only a walk of two or three minutes, but well, it's an order so they have to comply. I will soon have to get used to this fashion myself. I'm not too good with this kind of authority, I bet that will be a bit of a problem.

As I predicted, we arrive at the keep in the center of Hearthglen only a minute later. I thank the guard and make my way in. Before he leaves, he talks to one of the other guards stationed here to ensure I will be guided back to my house when I'm done. I reach the staircase to the upper level. Everybody I meet on my way is heavily armed, it's a bit frightening. I greet them all as friendly as possible.

The young lord Fordring is in the big hall in the upper level as usual. I enter, the doors are wide open. He is sitting at the long table at the end of the room with two of his advisers. I approach slowly, the three of them are talking and laughing, so I guess it's nothing too important they are addressing to at the moment.

"Ah, young Master Fipps! My greetings to you." I hate it when people call me that way. "It's good to see you, but may I ask what brings you here?" His voice is strong, yet as calm and gentle as Corren's, they are very much alike. This fact eases my nervousness slightly.

"I...", I struggle for words, "I just wanted to thank you for letting", I fumble for more words, "for letting me stay here for so long..."

"Nonsense boy!" He is barely a few years older than me still he addresses me as if I'm a child. "Come closer Master Fipps." As ordered I take a few more steps, the young lord doesn't look too pleased with me so uneasy, so he waves to me signalizing that I should come directly to the table. "We all knew your father, I met him personally a couple of times my old man met up with him and he was close friends with Uther, so tell me - why on earth shouldn't we take you here?" At first I want to speak up, complaining that he only speaks of my father and not me, but I hold myself back. "He was a great man, strong and full of compassion!" Fordring continues, "By my father's name, I am happy that we had the opportunity to offer his son shelter amongst our midst. That we could protect you from any harm. In the name of the Holy Light, it is a honour." he smiles at me in the same way as Corren always did.

I can't bear that everybody here thinks I'm going to be a hero one day just as my father was. At the present moment I'm not even good as a priest. I'm nothing actually. But if I said that, he'd probably tell me that this is why I'm going to the Scarlet Monastery.

"Why so quiet, Master Fipps?"

I interrupt him, "Please don't..." I look to the ground.

"Don't what?" he asks in return.

I stutter "P-p-please don't call me that way, just 'Marc', Master Fordring." I feel so embarrassed.

"Well if that is your wish, Master Fi..." he barely stops himself, "My apologies, if that is your wish, Marc, I will address you with your first name from now on." I thank him. It makes things a lot easier for me. "Well, I see you already wear your robes for departure. I'm happy you joined in on our cause with the Scarlet Crusade. I would be pleased to have you here after you finished your apprenticeship as a priest of the Crusade."

I don't know what to say, the son of Tirion Fordring and head of the Scarlet Crusade in the western plaguelands wants me to join him here. He clearly overestimates me.

"May the Holy Light guide you on your venture. But you have to excuse me, Mas..., Marc, I have to address myself to unfinished business. We have to bring a stop to the on-going attacks." I nod. "I'm sorry I would have loved to talk to you longer, but time is of the essence and we don't have to hesitate with these matters!" His voice is clear and strong, yet he smiles to me like everything is just a huge joke. He is a lot like Corren, despite calming on the one side it's another reason why I am so uneasy in his presence.

"I understand, lord Fordring. My.., my apologies if I interrupted you when doing some..., some important planning. After all..." I swallow hard, "After all, all I wanted to do is thank you, and I wanted to know if I could repay you in some..., some kind of way."

"Believe me, my boy. You don't need to repay me." He stands up. "You will always be welcome in Hearthglen and Mardenholde Keep. It was an honour!" He even bows towards me.

I back off quickly without a word. As I leave the room I hear Fordring already talking to his advisors again, I want to hear what they are saying being afraid they are making fun of me. I stormed out of the hall like the idiot that I am after all. No helping I come to terms with myself to just walk on slowly. I don't understand what they are saying but the words are clear and strong, not like when you are making fun of somewhat.

I reach the lower level in an instance, at the outer gate a guard is already waiting to guide me back to my home.

What on earth did I do to deserve this? The landlord of this area bows to me! I'm just the goddamn coward of a son of a hero... I didn't do anything to deserve such treatment!

I'm back at my home, I thank the guards, all three of them. I guess they wouldn't do such things for everybody.

Back inside of my home I head directly to my closet, packing more things together for departure in a few hours.

That man is very much like Corren. It's frightening.

For the first time since Corren and Keira have left, I feel hungry. I take the stairs down. In the small kitchen area I try to gather something to eat. All there is left is a lump of salt meat and a bit cheese from Alterac, not even a chunk of bread.

Just for a moment I think of asking a guard to escort me to the bakery, but no, I suppose one of them would do it, but if feels wrong to make use of the situation. So I sit down and eat what is left.

I wonder who will live in this big house after I've left. It was presented to me on the first day when I arrived here, one of the higher officers recognized me because of my father. When I moved in, this house basically lay in ruins. Lord Fordring ordered the workers to fix it up as fast as they could. You could live in it from the first day on after they fixed the roof, then the stairs and the floors and then the walls. After everything was done, they presented me with new windows and even furniture. I didn't know why, but I was so desperate after roaming the countryside for a day with all the undead, I didn't think of the 'why'. I still don't know how I survived for even that long.

I believe it's wrong that they did all this just because of my father, well at least, because of me being his son. A few days later I met Corren and Keira, I don't know why Keira was here in the first place but it was obvious she got stranded here, Corren on the other hand was simple to recall, he lived in the City of Lordaeron, with its destruction he had no place to go to. And after all, Hearthglen belongs to Taelan Fordring, son of the great Tirion Fordring - one of the first five knights of the Silver Hand! Mardenholde Keep, inside the town of Hearthglen, is property of the Fordring family.

Everybody around here is far more, well, grown up than I am. I always feel as if I'm still a child, defenseless and only in the way of everybody. Most people also respond to me like this. Corren talked to me as if I'm his son - he is barely 4 years older than I am! I'm twenty-one after all...

Almost seven years have passed since I moved from Northdale to Brill. It feels as if I haven't changed a lot since that day.

Somebody's knocking on the door disturbs my thoughts.

"The scarlet field trip has arrived, Master Fipps. Prepare yourself for departure! They arrived here early."

"Thank you." I reply hastily.

So destiny takes its course.


	5. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 4

_Chapter 4: _

Leaving Hearthglen behind me turned out easier than I thought it would at first.

The field trip is not too fast on its way, neither too slow, just like a steady flowing stream. The group consists of roughly ten people, four riders, as well as two clerics, three warriors and myself on foot. The leader of our party is a rather thin young woman with green eyes and long black hair. She is about as tall as I am if my eyes didn't lie to me. The crimson uniform suits her well, though her presence is indeed fearsome. Yet then again, I love the color of her eyes. Can't help really, I just adore almost every shade of green.

Everybody of the group is rather quiet, none of us talks much.

We finally reached the road some minutes ago. Whilst still in Hearthglen all the guards granted me a farewell and their best wishes for my future. It's strange, I hardly know any of them, yet they are all so friendly, so kind, furthermore I actually did not even like most of them. They did what they were told, guards to a golden prison. I was always kept safe so that possibly nothing could harm me.

Father, is this the way you would have wanted it to be?

I hear the usual uttering of the ghouls as we pass the ruins of Andorhal. Two of the wretched creatures even try to attack us! Instinctively I take a step backwards, already shivering. With Keira not around those creatures quickly became a lot more fearsome.

"Pathetic..." the leader of our group says somewhere next to me while looking into my direction. She turns her horse around and charges at the undead. Her sword splits one of the creatures in exactly two and the horse tramples down the second one.

The field trip stands still for a moment while watching her. Some of the warriors clearly seem to admire her or well... she is pretty attractive. She then slowly rides back to the group and offers me a sharp look with her light green eyes. I think she can sense my fear.

All of a sudden a ghoul tries to jump at her from behind.

"Watch ou...", I want to call.

"Idiot." she replies with a hiss while narrowing her eyes. She dodges to the left and the ghoul misses by a couple of inches, as her long black hair flies through the air. She slices the creature up while it's still in mid-air with a single fluent movement of her sword. I can only guess how she must have heard it approaching. The uttering of the undead quickly comes to an end. Poor soul, now finally you can rest in peace.

I don't know what rank she has in the crusade, but if I have to guess I would say something high like a captain. The field trip now continues its march to the monastery. While we get closer to the border to the Tirisfal Glades I take some time thinking whether or not she meant me or the ghouls by saying 'pathetic'.

The area near the border is extraordinarily quiet today, usually there are far more animals around here. One of the clerics notices my astonished looks and tells me that a group of soldiers of the Crusade have cleared this path yesterday so we could pass through without further disturbance. I'm relieved to hear this, yet I feel a bit sorry for the animals. On the other hand, they were already dying, furthermore most of them were already dead.

I try to talk to the cleric a bit longer. I'm hoping to satisfy my curiosity by asking if this was the same route the caravan took some days ago, it was of the Scarlet Crusade too so he could probably know. He tells me that they want to go to the ruins of Dalaran. That's the part I already knew, and that their route is far more dangerous than ours. They have to pass thought the ruins of Andorhal directly.

This information makes me worry. I can just hope Corren and Keira are well.

We finally reach the border, half the way lies behind us. Tirisfal has changed a lot. It is always dark here, as if some sort of magic keeps the light's rays away from the ground. It almost feels as if the whole country is filled with grief about what had happened.

The plague had its influence on the animals here as well. The woods are full of giant bats and strange dogs - they are no wolves, that's for sure. They have eyes as red as fire, somehow looking demonic. They roam around in search for small animals, these woods once used to be full of squirrels and I guess that's what they are looking for, because if we come close to them they back simply off. These... animals... here aren't as aggressive as those in the plaguelands.

After a few minutes we reach a path leading up to the mountains near the coast. The captain, as I suppose, heads on first with another of the riders, then all going by foot follow and the other two riders follow last, protecting our backs. Probably this is just a routine, we should have passed the most dangerous areas already.

After we slowly went up for a while we reach an open space as the path takes a curve to the east. We then are ordered to make a sudden stop. The other clerics tell me to stay quiet. And our captain signalizes we should not go on any further by raising her hand and a short look directed back to our group over her shoulder. I can't restrain my curiosity and take a look to the west down the hill.

It's a little village down there, wait... that's no ordinary village - it's Brill!

I want to take a step closer towards the edge of the hill but I'm stopped by one of the warrior seizing my shoulder.

"Nuisance..." I hear a female voice, it is rather dark and strong, no doubt she is mocking me again. I look at her and she only rolls her eyes. "Don't be so careless, the town of Brill is no longer of no inhabitants." She hisses at me as she turns around again facing the road pointing out we should move on slowly and quietly.

As we walk on I take another look at Brill. Appears she was right, I can see the light of torches down there and people moving. I turn to the cleric who I already talked to during the trip and ask him who was living down there and when Brill had been cleared by the crusade. "Boy..., Brill was never cleared by anybody. The former inhabitants aren't human anymore." His answer leaves me shocked for a few minutes. "Those undead down there are far more intelligent than the ghouls of the Scourge, thus far more dangerous. They aren't just mindless creatures like the zombies, but they are also driven by revenge and hatred, not a single bit better than their 'relatives' in the ruins of Andorhal." He continues as I swallow hard. "Make sure you don't cross paths with one of them. Just try to avoid them at first. You'll come to a point when you will be able to challenge them soon enough."

I briefly thank the cleric again for answering my questions. He nods with a friendly smile in return. It's the first time I see somebody of this party smile. They all seem so cold hearted, especially the woman leading us.

After a few minutes the path takes another curve, this time to the north again and the incline of the road increases quite drastically. Now we are going directly up the mountain. We pass the first heavily armed watch tower of the Scarlet Crusade. The soldiers there greet our leader but she doesn't respond at all and we all just heads on further.

Soon afterwards we reach a crossing on the slope of the mountain. I can already see the pinnacles of the Monastery from here.

I'm getting more and more exited. My heart is beating faster and faster.

It is far bigger than I have ever imagined. In this area there are more and more scouts and warriors of the Scarlet Crusade roaming around, guarding this sacred land. I can't help myself, but they all seem so... cold, to say cruel would be too harsh in my opinion, yet it would fit my feeling towards these people far better.

The riders dismount and take their horses to the stable. The captain on the other hand just gives her horse to one of the riders. She then leads us into the Monastery itself. The guards greet her friendly and with honour, one even mentions the word 'Captain' so I suppose I guessed right when I first saw her.

"Everybody, you are dismissed for today, go to your quarters and rest, you will resume normal duty by noon tomorrow. Some of you might even be taken to another field trip, if that should be the case then you shall be informed during the evening. Now of you go." Her last words sound a bit annoyed.

"And about you..." she looks at me narrowing her eyes again, "I'm ordered to take you to High Inquisitor Fairbanks right away. He wanted to talk to you immediately after you have arrived."

I nod quietly. I have barely arrived here and I'm already taken to the head of the clerics here because he wants to talk to me? I'm a bit scared of what will await me there. We have to a cross the large open space on our way to the cathedral. Four guards open the heavy gates so we can get into the building as we reach the entrance. At the altar a tall-grown man is talking to the attendees, he is preaching a sermon apparently. We turn right after entering and pass the people kneeling quickly and quietly. She leads me into a small chamber at the utmost right end of the hallway.

I can only wonder if that man up there might actually be...

"I will wait for you outside, I was ordered to show you your quarters afterwards... if you are lucky you only have to talk to Fairbanks and not to Whitemane." her tone is a bit angry and she shows this cruel smile of hers again. She must be furious about having to guide me through the Monastery. She closes the door behind her. Now I sit here and wait. What will the Highcleric be like? I hope not as cold as most of the others. And who is this Whitemane? I'm a bit confused, I've never heard this name before, yet Fairbanks was mentioned several times during my time in Hearthglen.

Soon I can hear somebody approaching outside, then I hear voices, one of the two is the captain of our party earlier, the other voice sounds older and by far softer. I don't understand what they are saying. All I know is that they are talking. Then everything is quiet again just before I hear steps towards the door. It opens.

A man enters, he has short grey hair and wears a beard. I stand up to greet him properly.

"So you are the boy of Fipps, my my, greetings to you, lad. I am High Inquisitor Fairbanks." I nod and look to the ground. The old man takes a seat. "No need to be shy boy, sit down." I do as he wishes. "Well, I'm glad you made it here. It's good to see everything went fine on your venture."

"Yeah", I whisper, thinking of the woman mocking me.

"By your looks you resemble your father a lot, he was quite a person. It will be my duty to ensure your growth to resemble him even more in spirit..." Slowly I'm getting sick of everybody telling me how great my father was - I know that and I also know that I'll never be able to be as strong as him. "He truly was a valorous man. And I am proud of having his son here in this monastery, under the banner of the Scarlet Crusade." I don't want to think of what might happen if they find out that I don't turn out the way they want. "I made quite an effort to be head of your personal education, you know." I look astonished. "It was not easy to overcome Whitemane in this matter, admittedly. Even though she is only my subordinate."

"May I...", I try to speak up, "May I ask who this Whitemane is? I've heard the name several times since I've arrived here, but never during my time in Hearthglen."

"Is that so? Well, she was once a student of mine, a talented young girl, about the same age as the young Fordring is now. But she took the wrong passes, made false decisions, yet she is still so talented that we can't, in fact we shouldn't ignore her. You see... she tends to be rather... cruel... from time to time. So she is second in command in the Monastery at a whole, yet she is only Inquisitor, so she must obey my orders concerning education and principles of the clerics of the crusade." How comes I've never heard of her before? But I guess I'll have a lot of time to think about that later. "The young Fordring sent me a note that he wishes to have you in Hearthglen once your studies are complete, that is quite a recommendation here, but we will consider this when you will be ready."

I blush. I'm not worth the endeavors that are made by all these people, why don't they understand and come to reason!

"Well then, young Fipps, I guess it was a tiresome day for you. You should head to your quarters and rest. Captain Theran will be sure to escort you there. Your first lessen will commence tomorrow afternoon, make sure you wear the robes prepared for you, you will find them in your room."

I can only look to the ground, "Yes sir." I stand up as ordered and head for the door.

"But before you head off, be advised... or no, consider it an order from your teacher! No matter what happens - stay away from Whitemane at all cost, for your own sake as a young uprising cleric." His looks darkened. I nod swiftly. "Good boy." He offers me a warm smile. "Now off you go." He signalizes me to get out of the room with his hands. I open the door and step into the hallway.

There she is again, still waiting there as she had announced earlier. "Follow me." she almost bellows out at me with her dark voice.

I follow without a word. We quickly pass through the gardens, the moon already high up in the air. I didn't realize how long I must have been waiting in that small chamber, or even how long our trip took us to get here.

"You are quite the lucky one, aren't you?" Theran suddenly asks me in an angry tone from over her shoulder without even looking at me. "Arriving here, talking directly to the High Inquisitor on a friendly basis, not having Whitemane join in on your conversation. Not having to stay in quarantine for about a month like every other new arrival has to. THAT is quite a list there."

She stops, rapidly turning around to face me. She narrows her eyes in the typical way. She comes closer looking directly into my eyes with hers. The light green changes to a strong emerald green in the moon light. "What is it with you? What is it about you?" she asks, her presence is pressing. I try to back off a few steps backwards but I bump into a wall. She actually scares me. I can't say a word. "They all treat you like you're special, but I didn't see anything special about you today, except for you being a coward in every possible situation. So why don't you tell me, WHAT IS IT ABOUT YOU?" she almost screams.

She doesn't understand that I don't know why either! I don't even want to be treated specially. I'm not able to answer her, making her only more and more mad at me. She even raises her hand so she could hit me in frustration, but she is able to hold herself back just in time.

Without a word she turns around and continues to walk on, "Come on now, insolent worm, I still have to show you your room." I stand there in bewilderment. "MOVE IDIOT!" she yells not concerned about the time and that some people could be already sleeping. I hurry up so I don't anger her any further.

For the rest of the way to my room she is quiet again, not saying a single word. We turn right into a hallway and follow it to the end, then we turn right again and walk down about the half of its length.

She stops in front of a wooden door, "Here it is." she opens the door. "The key to it lies inside on the table, your robes are in the closet. You got a single room, lucky one."

She rolls her eyes before turning around without a word and walks back to where we came from. "Somebody will come and wake you at precisely five o'clock."

At first I want to thank her, but then I decide I shouldn't, it would probably only rouse more hatred in her. I enter quietly.

So this is the place I will be staying in from now on. It is a lot smaller than the place in Hearthglen, but I expected that already. I close the door behind me. I have a window to the west offering a view past the graveyard of the monastery onto the cliffs of the northern coastline.

I lie down on my bed and try to reflect the events of this troublesome day. I think about travelling here, about Fairbanks and Whitemane and about Captain Theran.

I wonder what Keira and Corren are doing and hope both of them are fine.

I fall asleep without noticing it.


	6. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 5

_Chapter 5: _

A heavy knocking brings an end to my sleep. "Come on, get up new guy, will you?"

What a strange dream, nothing depressing but just strange... I dreamed I was a murloc, for heaven's sake! "Hurry up dammit! If you want something to eat this morning you should get up and open the door, you're the last one missing!"

Now I realize what the voice from outside is trying to tell me and that it's not only inside my own head. I hurry to get out of bed. I even slept with my robes on, oh my, didn't quite manage to change yesterday it seems. Quickly I unlock the door and open it.

"So you are the Fipps guy?"

My eyes are blinded by the light of the rising sun. I can only see a dark shadow for the first moments, my eyes not adjusted to the sunlight yet.

"Wha...what?", I stutter.

"I said: So you are the Fipps guy?" The person asking me is a bit smaller than myself, not much though. He has short brown curly hair and is wearing a robe just like the one that has been given to me only yesterday. "You should hurry up or you will get us both in trouble I tell you." his tone is pressing, yet remaining calm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." Yet he bluntly interrupts me.

"What? You didn't mean to sleep this long? Oh my, oh my. Got a different story for me?" He clearly tries to stress his authority. "I know you had a long journey yesterday, but you should know that being the son of a hero won't count as an excuse in the future as long as you're here. So you should know the way everything goes around here and more importantly, comply with it." There the story goes again. The same thing over and over. The only thing they all are seeing is my father, not me. No-one ever thinks about me possibly not wanting to be treated like this. I will never be able to surpass him, let alone catch up to him, no matter how hard I'd tried. The person in front of me then suddenly shrugs, "Why do I tell you anyway? Next time if you won't wake up, I'll just leave you here. It'll be better for all of us... As an advice: first there, first served, so if you want something to eat, be sure to make it to the common room in time."

I nod quietly as he leaves the room. "Come on, now change and off we go. No matter how I feel about it I'll still have to get you there today and it's already a quarter past five."

I hurry up changing my robe and follow.

"May I..., may I ask you something, s-sir?" I look to the floor while following.

"What is it, new apprentice?"

"You didn't tell me your name. So.., I'd kindly ask you if..." He casually looks over his shoulder whilst walking on.

"It's Worth, Charles Worth. I used to be a tailor before I enlisted in the Scarlet Crusade. The robes you are wearing were made by me."

We reach the common room after a short while. "Seems we are lucky, there is still something left for us."

Basically the people here stand in line and wait till they get something to eat. What that is depends on what their giving out each day. Charles gets his meal first, I go second. They guy behind the counter gives me two buns and a bowl of oatmeal gruel. This food smells like nothing and looks simply put disgusting.

With the small tray in my hands I start searching for a place to sit down and eat.

"Hey, you're Fipps, aren't you?" The guy behind the counter asks me before I manage to turn away. How did he know?

"Ye-yes I am, but how did you...?"

"You're the only person I've never seen around here." He cuts me off. "Therefore it was quite easy to find out. I have a letter for you. I don't know from whom it is, but the Inquisitor who brought it by told me not to open it. Here ya go." He hands me the envelope without any words too much. Wow, the first one in here who was at least a bit friendly except for the High Inquisitor.

I now can finally turn away from the counter and make my way through the rows of benches. Almost all of them are filled with students, clerics, monks, warriors. Most of them are staring at me, though I guess that's normal if you're the new guy.

There is a small table at the end of the room that is still completely empty. I know no one here so I prefer to sit down back there, I don't want to bother anybody else around here. It's no good making enemies on the first few days.

I sit down and put my plate on the table. My eyes coming to rest on the envelope I decide to open it later, maybe after eating. It takes me a while to get the gruel down my throat. This breakfast does not only look disgusting, it definitely is!

Again hardly anybody is talking around here. They all eat in silence. I'm not sure whether this is the general fashion here or if it's only because of me. The bell of the monastery then signalizes that it's a quarter to six and everybody stands up in unity. They move along to the counter returning their wooden plates and head out of the hall. I take my time queuing last. The guy who gave me the letter now tells me that I should head to the cathedral for the morning prayers, after that we have a bit of free time to study on our own or - if we've already finished our training - to prepare for assignments.

I follow his directions and move along with crowd over to the morning prayers.

I am a bit surprised how all these people are fitting in this cathedral, it seems a lot smaller from the outside. After our little crowd entered the building, the guards stationed here started moving us around a bit so everybody would find a place. As soon as everybody is tucked away nicely people start kneeling down in front of the altar. A guard assigned me a place right in the middle. I take a guess that they mainly sort people due to their heights.

The door behind the altar then opens and out comes a man with long orange hair. He is tall grown and wears a full set of crimson armor with white ornaments. A two-handed sword is tied to his back. This... this might be him! The sword glowing golden from behind strengthens me. Yes, it must be him!

Alexandros Mograine!

The Ashbringer tied to his back, he stands there up high. My heart is beating fast, so it really had been him yesterday.

I can't believe it, the Ashbringer himself will be preaching to us. I will learn my first prayers of the Scarlet Crusade directly from him! I'm so excited.

As he begins to speak I still hope that he would teach me prayers, but I soon notice that the things he is saying were more of a warning..., more of a call to arms.

As I listen to the words time starts flying by.

_My brothers! I am glad to see you gathered here. _

_We all have to stand together. _

_These times are difficult, the dangers are numerous, and faith can grow thin even within the strongest of us._

_YET, I CALL UPON YOU, MY BROTHERS!_

_Strengthen your mind! Strengthen your heart! Strengthen your souls!_

_HAVE FAITH! The Holy Light will protect us if we believe! Do not doubt the holy judgments! The Holy Light will lead us on a righteous way!_

_Our enemy in these days is treacherous! It kills without hesitation, not only rendering and abusing the bodies of our friends and loved ones. _

_NO! _

_The Scourge uses them to fool us, to fool our judgments! _

_To lead us to a point where we doubt! It tries to deceive us with the sight of our beloved! _

_Thus I call upon you, my brothers! Don't be misled by the appearance! Stand against it!_

_SEE THE ENEMY, NOT THE DISGUISE! _

_The Scourge has made them to mindless objects! _

_Do not doubt and clear your view, this is the key to redeem salvation for the poor souls of our beloved. _

_The Scourge is offering our greatest trial by taking them!_

_DO NOT HESITATE! Strike if you have the chance, for they will not halt! They will not pause, they will use any opening you leave them! _

_Be careful, my brothers! The Scourge will use the innocent! The people who are not involved! _

_THEY WILL ATTACK WITHOUT WARNING! _

_Watch out who you trust, my brothers! Everybody who is not wearing a scarlet robe might already be taken by the enemy! Friends! Even family! _

_You can't tell by age! Children! The elder! They don't make a difference when choosing their next victims!_

_My brothers, do not be misled by the sweet appearance of a child! _

_DO NOT DOUBT THE LIGHT, but doubt the appearance of others than the Scarlet Crusade!_

_I was present as one of my most loyal companions was almost claimed by the Scourge as he did not trust my judgment! _

_The foul beast disguised itself as a close friend of him, my brothers! In the moment of relaxation, it tried to strike! _

_STRIKE WHEN HE WAS UNAWARE! _

_He was lucky, lucky that I was even closer to him in this moment. My blade fell the creature, offering the oppressed soul redemption as it burned away the unholy flesh!_

_This is a difficult time, my brothers. _

_It is hard to trust, but do not have doubt in any of the Scarlet Crusade! _

_DO NOT HAVE DOUBT IN THE HOLY LIGHT!_

_I myself, THE ASHBRINGER, will attend to clear greater parts of the plagued lands in the next weeks! _

_With the end of the week I will travel to the ruins of Stratholme with my trusted companions, to the Scarlet Bastion inside the rotten heart of Stratholme, where our troops under the command of the Grand Crusader, Saidan Dathrohan rest, are defending the holy walls from the Scourge!_

_MY BROTHERS! From this bastion we will spread the lights judgment and journey deep into the city of Stratholme, cleaning every house, destroying everything the Scourge used to fortify themselves there!_

_After the cleaning Stratholme I will venture to the former village of Northdale, from there we will travel to Corin's Crossing and Darrowshire, before heading further west to Andorhal, Brill and finally the ruins of the former Capital City of Lordaeron!_

_THIS WILL BE MY VENTURE! _

_We will cleanse the Scourge from this area and reclaim the land that is rightfully ours! The land of our ancestors and children!_

_Once the City of Lordaeron will be again under our command, we will address to the necromancer school in Caer Darrow! No minion of the Scourge shall be left within these lands!_

_MY BROTHERS! The light shines on the way we will venture along, and this way will be full of success. A prosperous future lies ahead of us as the undeath around us will be burned to ashes!_

_Now head on, my brothers, another day awaits us, a small step on a long way into a glorious future!_

_Do not doubt, but do not trust lightly, these are my words for you! _

_May the Holy Light bless us all!_

His voice is as clear as fresh water, it is strong as steel and most important of all: it gives faith. The sound of it fills the whole room with ease, it travels into every heart. His charisma is astonishing, maybe even frightening.

Mograines stands in front of us all, his arms crossed for a moment. From my point of view it looks as if he is smiling. He shortly waves with one hand and says "Farewell, my brothers" not as loud as the words before. Then he turns around and heads back into the chamber behind the altar. When he is not visible anymore and the door is closing the first few of the listeners stand up and make their way out of the cathedral. Mostly the heavy armed guards who were listening too.

I again take my time. After all my first lesson starts in the afternoon and it's not even seven o'clock yet.

I think I'll use the time to get to know the monastery grounds a bit better.

The cathedral is a beautiful place, especially the architecture of the building itself, and of the surrounding ones. If you leave through the front door you come into a wide open space. I love it when nature is taken into account when constructing such buildings. The grass and trees that are standing here are mostly untouched. And even if they were arranged later on it still has an authentic looks to it. A giant fountain was implemented in the middle of it all with a little waterfall and the meadow is framed by two long hallways with twenty columns each.

To the west of the cathedral there is a cemetery. I want to have a look at the graves whether there are some of important members of the crusade, but I'm not allowed to enter. Two guards stand at the entrance and block my way. They say this area is off limits for new guys like me. I'm a bit astonished, but there is nothing I can do about that for the moment so I'll just have to have a look around in the eastern areas of the monastery for now.

Adjacent to the cathedral there is the armory. At least it is called that way. In reality it is more of a training ground for the warriors of the Crusade. Some of them give me a strange look as I walk pass them, but that is not of my concern. I guess somebody will tell me if I'm not allowed to trespass here.

I follow the staircase down at the end of the hallway, well now this starts to look more like an armory. Except for all the weapons each room down here seems heavily guarded. I just walk a bit further.

"What are you doing down here, cleric? Want to borrow yourself a two-handed sword?" the guard asking this is sniggering.

"N-no, I'm just having a look around here, Sir. I arrived here last evening.", I answer.

"It's... unusual... to see a priest down here, but well, go on. Be sure not to disturb Herod if you find him in the Hall of Champions." I nod and pass them. As I walk on, I think I hear something from the guards that sounded like 'strange guy'.

This armory seems to be huge, it takes me about fifteen minutes to get to the other end of it, from there another staircase leads back up and into another hallway. I see a giant door at the end of it.

I come closer and ask the guards directly at the door if it would be possible for me to enter.

"I'm sorry, mate, but Herod is training inside at the moment. You have to stay out, my lad."

Well, I guess I'll have the chance to have a look at it sometimes later.

I return to the center of the monastery, it takes me another fifteen minutes back through the armory, but at least the guards and trainees there don't offer me the same strange looks the second time I come through.

As I head on to the most eastern part of the monastery, for the first time it occurs to me that the armory is the area where I would most likely bump into Captain Theran. Realizing it this late comes a bit shocking, though luckily I did not meet her. Maybe she is on another assignment today.

The only area I haven't been to till now is the library in the eastern wing. To get there I have to pass through another open space, considerably smaller than the other. The library itself on the other hand is gigantic. Even only the first hallway of it is incredibly long and the most interesting things, magic and history, are located at the far end of the library, it is said to be a circular room, the place where the famous arcanist Doan is studying most of the time. Maybe he is there today, I'm so excited.

Quite different to the armory, nobody in here offers me strange looks, so everybody seems to be expecting of me to come here, oh well. I walk past shelves full of books containing mythology, common knowledge and earliest history. All the librams are written in various languages. I just hope I don't have to learn all of them.

There is still a lot time left till the afternoon, so I decide to have a look at some of the books. I choose the myth section for a first look. But before I start looking on my own, I go up to some of the other clerics who are sitting or standing close to me to ask them a few things.

"Well, just take the books you want to read. You're of the Crusade so it's fine. But if you want to take some of the books to your quarters you'll have to tell the secretary and ask for permission, she'll make a note and you'll have a week's time to return it." That's all I want to hear from him. I thank him for telling me and head back to the shelves to have a closer look. There are a lot of books about the various elven gods. Those are the ones I noticed first. I take one of them out of the shelf. Yet I put it back just as I opened it up for a first time.

It's not translated and I can't read Thalassian or Darnassian or whatever that language was called. I try another book, yet it's just the same. The third book was also in its native language. After searching for a few minutes I give up all hope to find a book about elven gods and mythology that isn't written in their language.

I go to another bookshelf.

Oh my! The title of the book reads 'Neltharion, the Earth Warden, Delegate of Khaz'goroth'. That's exactly what I was looking for. The sudden smile on my lips widens even more as I see some more of them. 'Malygos, the Spell-Weaver, Delegate of Norgannon', 'Ysera, Mistress of Dreams, Delegate of Eonar', 'Nozdormu, the Lord of Time, Delegate of Aman'Thul' and finally 'Alexstrasza, the Life-Binder, Delegate of Eonar', all five of them directly next to each other. I definitely have to read those! I take one of the five books out and have a first glance at the text. Thank goodness, the books all seem to be written in common language. As I look around I see some more books about the dragon aspects and something that looks like an awkward creation myth, 'The Titans and the Construction of Azeroth'. Maybe I'll have a look at those later on too.

Skipping through more and more pages time starts flying by and I soon find myself spending most of the day in the library, I even skip lunch so I have more time to stay here. I only get to read in one book more in depth though, something showing general aspects of the dragon flights. But soon I figure I should probably change my main topic for now, in only a few hours my first lesson will begin so I should forget about Alexstrasza for a moment and focus on other things, just as Corren told me to.

I discover a large amount of books about prayers and the Holy Light a bit further down the hall. I don't really want to read those..., but I have to at some point... I promised Corren in a sort of way. I take one of the books from the shelf and sit down at a table nearby.

I lose every little bit track of time as I am standing here in front of this huge mass of books. I've spent about four hours just looking until now. Just in time I realize that I am almost missing out on my first lesson and head straight out of the library into the central hall of the monastery in a hurry.

Goddamn, I've got no idea where I have to go! Where are we taught? Oh no! I panic. Trying to calm down, I can only think of asking a guard for the way. They would tell me for sure.

I run to the armory, there should be a lot of them, hopefully. I stop in front of the first one I meet. He asks me if everything is alright, I nod. I tell him I only have a question, a very urgent question from my point of view. My breath is short, I pant.

"I'm sorry..." I want to apologize for holding him up.

"WHAT are YOU doing here, you blundering idiot?", somebody shouts just in the moment I want to ask. "You shouldn't wander around uselessly, but be studying, fool!" I know this voice, Captain Theran. Of all people on earth, why? Why is it her?

I slowly turn around. "S-s-sorry, nobody told me where the lesso..."

"Well, shut up and get going, I'll take you there. You're nothing but a burden!" she looks at me angrily. "It's nothing but trouble with you, you no-good."

If it wouldn't be for her voice, I wouldn't have recognized her at first glance. She is wearing a long white robe with a crimson badge of the Scarlet Crusade on it. This outfit suits her well, highlighting her as a fair woman. Her green eyes show a beautiful glow in the sunlight too. Her skin seems so soft and clean. The long black hair is smoothly hanging down her back. Yet her loud and angry voice pushes all these facts aside in an instant.

She leads the way fast paced. "You're lucky again... you still got ten minutes, if it weren't for Fairbanks, I'd have just left you standing back there." I keep quiet, being sure that any word of myself would only provoke her. We hurry across the meadow in front of the cathedral. "Your lessons are held inside, right at the end of the left hallway in one of the larger rooms." Her tone is pressing and her eyes narrowed as usual. She stops shortly after entering the building pointing with one arm to the hallway I have to take.

I head on without a word.

There are few minutes left and I hardly make it on time. I enter the room wheezing, the bell of the cathedral signalizing that the time is up.

The others in the room are all not much older than myself. I recognize somebody who lived in Brill before the assassination of King Menethil. His family had then fled to Tyr's Hand, knowing that the heavily fortified city would offer safety even in case of a long-term siege. I don't know any of the others.

I take an empty seat at the side of the room. As there is nobody here in the room to teach us yet, I guess I am not the last one to arrive here.

About five minutes pass. We are all listening whether we can hear if somebody is coming.

Then we finally hear steps. The shoes of him or her approaching are making loud noises on the floor of the almost empty cathedral, backed up by a loud echo.

We turn around to the door, impatiently awaiting the producer of the sounds. To my surprise it's a young woman that enters, probably still in her mid-twenties. She is rather tall and has hair as white as snow - the light through the window lets it almost seem silver. Her eyes are surrounded by a red lining. The top she is wearing looks a bit like a tabard. It is made of crimson colored leather with black strokes and a golden pattern on the front side. Her boots also seem to be made of the same leather and reach up to her thighs, they have high heels. She wears an old fashioned chapeau on her head also out of the same materials again with golden strokes covering it. The whole outfit is rather tight, stressing her seductive beauty.

As she walks to the end of the room, all eyes lie on her and everybody has fallen quiet. She then slowly turns around to face us, presenting her body in every angle for as long as possible.

"From now on, you are apprentices of the Scarlet Crusade." she starts of without any sort of introduction to herself. Her voice reminds me somewhat of Captain Theran in its rather dark toned nature. She speaks without hesitation in a calm and slow way, the intonation of a few words strangely off. "Here you will be learning about the Holy Light and how you can use it as a means to your own ends."

The words of her brand themselves directly into my memory. Something very strange is up with the way how she talks.

"I will teach you personally every now and then, apart from that, High Inquisitor Fairbanks will be your teacher for most of the time. Our clerics..."

"AND I BELIEVE...", the words are said loudly and clearly by a strong, yet gentle voice, "I will start interfering with your teaching right away." the old man in the door smiles. Nobody of us has noticed how he had arrived.

"High Inquisitor? What is it? I was just about to start the first lesson. Would you mind?" her tone shifts to something more annoyed.

"Well my dearest, all I wanted to do is to wish good luck to all of our students and to introduce myself. High Inquisitor Fairbanks would be my name and title." He sounds outmost friendly, a waging contrast to her as her face now shows an angry look. In reaction he turns around and wants to leave already.

"As I was saying. Our cle...", her monologue comes to another sudden stop.

"Ah, yes, I forgot." he says quietly, but loud enough to be heard by everyone, while looking over his shoulder.

"WHAT?", she almost shouts.

"I'd like to see you in my office at the end of the other hallway, master Fipps." What? Why me? I offer an astonished look. "NOW!" He raises his voice in an instant. I jump to my feet and leave the room as ordered. Most of the people are looking at me right now. "Go forth, young Fipps, I will follow you in a moment." the High Inquisitor whispers to me before he turns back to the rest of the people. "And Sally?"

"You still have something to say, old man?" she surely is mocking him. "Don't go too hard on them, please. I wouldn't want to lose any of them so early." he smiles at her again. She only makes a disapproving sound. "Have a nice day." he speaks to everybody in the room, after making them weary of their new teacher, then he turns around and leaves.

I am already in midst of the great hall next to the altar. This is the place where Alexandros Mograine stands every morning. Wow.

I didn't notice how I had come to a stop until a hand reaches for my shoulder. "I-I'm sorry." I look to the ground so I wouldn't have to face the sight of whoever reached out for me so suddenly.

"Silly boy. No need for excuses. Thanking me should be more appropriate."

"Thanking y-you?", I stutter like a fool without thinking too much about it.

"Well, I saved you from Whitemane's clutches the second time now, you know?" This is the moment when I first realize that the woman back there had been this mystic Whitemane the High Inquisitor has mentioned before.

"Tha-that is Whitemane?" I again ask without thinking of my words.

"Sometimes Captain Theran seems to be a bit right, doesn't she?" he is smiling at me nevertheless these words are hard to swallow. He opens the door to his office. "Please, enter." his hand is pointing inside. I do as he wishes. He closes the door behind him. "Now have a seat, Marc." this is the first time he calls me that way. "I hope it's okay if I address to you like this." He sits down and I nod quickly in response to his question. A cozy fire is burning in the fire place next to the desk of Fairbanks.

"Fine. Now, before we start, are there any things you want to ask me?"

"S-start? Start with what?" This would basically be my first question.

"With your lesson of course. You need somebody who teaches you. And I've told you already that I won't let Whitemane get anywhere near you." he talks quickly, stressing the importance of this fact.

"Why are you doing this?" this question again came out of my mouth without giving it too much thought.

"Well, you have seen her yourself and should be able to tell that she is a scary young girl. Sally Whitemane may be talented, but I assure you, she will try to take you down the same way she went. AND I tell you, that is the WRONG way!" I flinch as he says that.

"But..." I want to respond. For a moment I want to tell him that all of this is not worth the effort. That I will never be as great as my father.

"You fool! Stop complaining already!" he sounds angry, "There is great potential in you, you just don't know it yet! You have a strong soul. Much stronger than many people in this monastery! I won't let her claim it in the name of the shadows. Your destiny is to serve the Holy Light! Why don't you have faith for once?" A shiver runs down my spine as his words come to an end.

"Now, have you received any note during the course of the day?" The letter! I totally forgot about that during the time in the library!

"Ye-yes, I was given an envelope this morning."

"Did you open it?" he asks rapidly.

"No, no I did not."

"Then give it to me!" This clearly was an order.

I hand him the unopened letter. He unseals it the moment he has it in his hands and starts to read it. His only reaction is silence as he raises an eyebrow.

"This clearly is Whitemane's doing." Without taking another look he throws the letter into the fire besides him. I jump to my feet. "No boy. No! Just sit down again. It's better this way. She wanted to seduce you into following her blindly. Even IF she would be trustworthy, you should never trust someone blind folded, not in these times. And most of all not to people who pretend to be this close to you; this is my first advice for you, young Fipps.."

He stands up again and walks to the window. "I assume you have no further questions?" he asks me. I have a lot more of them, but none of them would be doing any good at this moment.

"Following the Holy Light is a difficult path. You need to know this." He gazes out of the window into the sky. "This is not because of demanding spells, an enormous amount of willpower or the dangers of using this type of magic. No. This is because of its counterpart." He turns around facing me. "You see every type of magic as we know it has some sort of counterpart which you will get afflicted to if you use your magic. This kind of affliction can be of great benefit, yet it can be of great harm." His looks darken. "As fire magic aspires towards ice and water, just like this the holy arts strive for the shadows. Sally knows this and she is by far closer to darkness than any of us in the monastery would openly admit." This is far more complex than I had imagined.

"You see, being able to use the holy arts is a straining thing to do. You will always be close to the darkness. If you will not be able to keep your righteous heart, you will fall for the temptation." I start having second thoughts about me becoming a cleric. "But do not be in doubt! Doubting is the first step in the wrong direction. It will seem like the easier path to travel, but if you trust yourself, if you have faith in the Holy Light, you will ALWAYS be able to overcome the shadows residing in your heart."

The fire behind him crackles viciously. I imagined this all being easier, but now after he tells me all this I'm starting to fear what might happen.

"Let me tell you a story." I listen up as he stands up. "Some years ago, directly after the end of the second great war, we discovered something at the foot of Blackrock Mountain. Alexandros Mograine kept this a secret until the first whispers about the Scourge had reached Lordaeron. It was an artefact of pure darkness. A crystal, small but endlessly dangerous!" The High Inquisitor tries to show an approximate size with his hands. "Upon touching the orb, Alexandros' flesh was rendered. This item had carved wounds into his arm we were not able to heal. The scars remain even until today." He looks to the ground and turns around again. "The day he had shown this to us in Southshore, we knew that even something like this, darkness incarnated existed, there had to be a counterpart to it. So we quickly decided on searching for its opposite, we swore to uncover a manifestation of light itself. But we had to dispose of the unholy crystal first. It would have been of incredible danger had we not." He makes a short pause. "I was one of the first ones to strike at the damned thing. I used one of the spells I learned from Isillien. He called it smite, it is one of the very few attack spells using holy magic. You will be taught to use it yourself soon enough." He walks slowly across the room.

"To our amazement the crystal took no damage upon being attacked. On the contrary, it absorbed all our efforts. Everything was in vain. Despair was already creeping up on us. Then it happened." Fairbanks lowers his voice. "The orb emitted in a light glow. Every further attack made it glow stronger. Suddenly with a flash of blinding light the crystal changed to its complete opposite! The manifestation of light we had pledged to find!" The High Inquisitor returns to the table, taking his seat again.

"Mograine touched it with his still wounded hand and he was healed completely within an instance. From this crystal a mighty weapon, the Ashbringer was forged. It remains to be the strongest weapon against the hordes of the Scourge that we have." Fairbanks takes a deep breath.

"The thing I wanted to show you by telling this little anecdote is that light can always overcome darkness. The darkness may be reckless and strong, yet it is also frail and volatile, in other words vulnerable to something as pure and resolved as light. If you stay on a righteous way, not driven by selfishness, you will be able to control the light by your hearts content without having to fear to ever lose your soul to the shadows. And I believe you are capable of doing so, young master Fipps. Maybe not yet, but the time will come."

This is all? This is the reason for him being my 'private tutor'? I try to understand but I still don't get why all of them are making such efforts with me. I know I'm not that good!

"So now I have a question for you, Marc. And I will be honest with you, if you answer in a way I am displeased with, you shall leave the monastery and the Scarlet Crusade now and without a minute's delay.", he smiles at me. Saying such words and still keeping his friendly face. I can only swallow hard." After having told you all this today, do you still want to become a cleric of the Scarlet Crusade?"

Is that a trick question? I only have this one opportunity to prove to myself and everybody else that I'm not completely worthless. Yet again he is right somehow. But, no, I have to, Corren and Keira would not want me to have doubt in this.

"Ye-yes..."

"I'm sorry, young master Fipps, I did not hear you, what were you saying?" The tone of him is demanding.

"Yes, I want to become a cleric." I hope this will end up the way I wish for.

"Good boy, with this your first lesson is at its end."

"What?" I almost call out.

"Yes, you heard what I said, we are done for today. I will send Captain Theran to pick you up tomorrow. I assume she will find you in the library in the afternoon hours. Am I correct?"

"Ye-yes, Sir." I respond. "Fine then, off you go. Head to the library for an hour or two then go to bed. You seem the type of guy who likes to read a lot." he still smiles at me. Likes to read a lot, how comes? I've never had many books at home and I've hardly ever read anything except for sometimes when my parents were teaching me.

The High Inquisitor opens the door and sends me out, "Good night, boy." I just hate it being addressed to as a child, though it's far more appropriate when he does it compared to the young Fordring.

I head directly to the library, but I do not plan on staying there for too long. I get two books, one about the dragon flights and one about the Holy Light, as a kind of alibi. Then I'm on my way to my quarters. I had no problems with the secretary. She only told me that she needed them back by the end of next week. Sundown approaches quickly as my thoughts wander off to Keira and Corren for a few minutes. I miss the two of them.

Well now we finally are on our own paths, everybody for him or herself.

I hope the next lesson with the High Inquisitor will teach me more things about making use of the light. I hope I will be able to control it someday, just as he said. Right now I'm only afraid of failing. I want to be like my father, but I hate being only compared to him. I hate it how people see him when looking at me and nothing else. Corren and Keira were different. They accepted me as the person I was, as my true self.

I reach my room and enter, locking the door behind me. Without doing anything else I lay down on my bed with the two books in front of me. I open the book about the Holy Light first, hoping anything in there will help me to understand everything a bit better.

I fall asleep after reading about twenty pages.


	7. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 6

_Chapter 6: _

The following two days were not too exciting. The only thing I can really recall from yesterday is the lesson with the High Inquisitor. I had hoped that he would be actually teaching me something, well... impressive, but no, of course he did not. I wanted to learn something that really would help me out if I was in danger and alone.

We sat there in this little room for about three hours and he basically held a monologue on how dangerous it can be if you abuse the powers of the Holy Light. I'm still a bit disappointed, to say the least.

In the end it all was quite similar to the first lesson, but longer.., a lot longer.

'Just as the blade rends flesh, so must power scar the spirit', these are his words, they sound as if they are taken from some old book. I will surely memorize them if nothing else. Summing it up and speaking in general words he tried to tell me about a dozen times during the whole lesson that I should be careful.

After finishing the long discussion on the Holy Light, he told me I should head off to bed and so I did. Unluckily for me, I bumped in Captain Theran about one hallway before reaching my quarters and thus safety. I thought she wanted to kill me right on the spot for no reason whatsoever. I am still frightened by her. I don't know whether she overreacts every time or why she is to me like that, but it is for certain that she is looming over me with a certain aura of dread. Anyways whilst she tried to kill me with her words, I made an attempt to retreat. She just goes frenzy every time she even barely sees me. I beg that this won't last forever.

When I was back in my quarters, I sat down on my bed and started reading right away. I read about two hours in the book about the dragon flights. The longer I read on I think the more and more it is becoming fascinating. Ever since I've opened this book, I kept the fang Keira gave me close by my side. Every time I see it, I wonder if this really might be the fang of a dragon or if this originates from an ordinary animal like a wildcat. It is unnaturally pointy without any shards or similar things to it. Yet again I'm highly skeptical about it being from a real dragon just because of that. I just don't know what to think. I fell asleep upon reading that night.

Today was not that different to yesterday to be fair. By now it has turned evening and I can calmly recall the events of the afternoon. As I already mentioned before, it was like yesterday, not too exciting overall except for maybe my daily conflict with Captain Theran. I still have to figure out if she has a reason for her behavior or if she just plainly hates me. It really started bothering me.

During my lesson with Fairbanks I didn't get a single step closer to my goal. I wonder when he will finally start actually teaching me something. I'm eager to learn something, I want to become stronger. I do not want to stay such a nuisance like I am now. I'm only in the way with my present skills. I want to change and I'm growing impatient.

During this lesson he told me that the Abbendis family will be sent to the free city of Tyr's Hand. The city has been under siege for about a month now. The Scarlet Crusade hopes that the city elders will consider joining the Crusade if we send troops to their aid. Fairbanks also told me that if this adoption is successful, the Abbendis family will become head of Tyr's Hand. It sounded like an excursus into local politics for me.

Yet the subject of main interest today was the absence of the Mograines and the High Inquisitor from the end of the week on. In four days, the Ashbringer and two of his most beloved and trusted friends or siblings will join him on his quest to the ruins of Stratholme. During this time, so Fairbanks told me, he will get a substitute teacher for me. In fact during the two weeks when he will be absent I will have normal tuition with the other apprentices. He told me that he asked the Grand Inquisitor Isillien to do this favor for him and that because of my connections and the fact that I should already know him it all would most likely work out as planned. And oh yes, I do know him, he was one of the advisors of the young Taelan Fordring in Hearthglen. He seemed to have a fairly strong personality, being a bit bossy but not overdoing it. As it appears Whitemane was in charge of class over the last few days and that would be the reason why I was taught in private by the High Inquisitor.

I know that her presence is fearsome and that she had taken those so-called 'wrong turns' like Fairbanks had said, but I don't know why we have to be so much afraid of her. Is this whole stuff really necessary?

I wonder what would differ if she'd be teaching me. But curiosity is also a dangerous thing when it comes to her as my 'teacher' put it. Today I again received another letter from her. As I gave it to the High Inquisitor he just burned it like the last one without giving me the chance to have even only a short look at it. I don't know a word of what she had written for me.

Come to think of it, today's 'lesson' was more of a status report concerning the upcoming weeks.

I'm excited about the classes with the Grand Inquisitor Isillien. I really want to know if they differ from... this. I would also like to get an idea how Whitemane teaches. But then again, I should be more grateful and it is rather nice being taught by High Inquisitor Fairbanks after all, although I had imagined he would proceed faster. Instead he only tries to show me how dangerous holy magic can be due to its affliction with the shadow. And I'm quite sure I understood that by now. I know I need the training with the spells, I know that it will take me some time to learn them.

And now? Well right now I'm lying here on my bed thinking about all of this. I don't know how I should call it. It's not actually a mess, but I had a different idea of how this would all take place. And I am quite sure that Whitemane already teaches the first spells.

I don't always want to be the last...


	8. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 7

_Chapter 7: _

The rest of the week continued to pass by equally fast.

During this time I heard many rumors about the attacks on Hearthglen growing over the heads of the local forces as they seem to be becoming stronger and stronger with each night. On the upside of things I also heard that Tyr's Hand now is willing to join the Scarlet Crusade if we would supply troops for the ongoing protection of the city. I suppose a military field trip to the eastern plaguelands will be leaving from here soon.

Additionally to all of this, today is the day of the departure of the Ashbringer. I know that he will bring an end to this madness. He will clean the northern kingdoms of the undead plague, I'm certain of it. He is the man who will destroy every last minion of the Scourge between Stratholme and the ruins of Lordaeron, offering peace to our oppressed lands.

I wish that someday I will be able to settle down in Brill again. And I can only hope this day will come soon. Maybe I can convince Keira and Corren on also staying there, that would be a dream come true. But I guess that day will never come, both of them have far greater things to achieve than I. Higher callings to respond to.

Hearing an aggressive knocking on the door makes me flinch. Quickly I stand up and make my way over to the door.

"Open up at once!" It knocks again for a second time, almost as if the person on the other side wants to break down the door. "Open the damned door!"

As I recognized her voice after the first time she called out, I stood still for a brief moment not wanting to open it anymore. But the instance she had yelled the second time, I rushed over to the door, unlocking it.

"What took you so long, damned idiot?", she narrows her eyes in the typical fashion.

"No-nothing Captain Theran, I'm sorry." I look to the floor averting her gaze.

"The High Inquisitor is waiting for you, he sent me to fetch you.", she takes a short look around. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Reading, Captain.", I answer truthfully.

"Reading?", her tone is mocking. "Well, now cut it out and start following at once! The High Inquisitor is leaving in only a few hours and he wanted to talk to you BEFORE he leaves us."

Immediately she turns and exits my quarters. Without delay I follow.

"I'm getting sick of being your personal guide around the monastery."

Even though I am used to her yelling at me at least once a day, I still flinch every time she raises her voice. Without this rough character she would be a beautiful, young woman. And it makes me wonder if she is like this all the time or if there might actually be a flipside.

Travelling with steady steps we reach the office of the High Inquisitor quickly. Captain Theran instantly sends me into the room, without knocking or anything else to announce our arrival.

"Ah, good morning, Marc. How are you?" He greets me in the same friendly fashion as always, a bright smile on his face.

"F-fine, Sir." I reply.

"That is good to hear, boy.", he seems to be still over arranging his belongings for his upcoming departure. Taking a short break from what he was doing before my arrival, he turns to me taking a deep breath. "As I have told you yesterday, I will be leaving in about two hours." I nod silently. "Today there will be no lesson for all of you. But if Whitemane should summon you..." he pauses for a short moment. "Well you know what you should do in that case." he looks at me with yet another friendly smile.

"Ye-yes, I do know." I answer briefly.

"Fine then, there should be no problems after my departure." he sounds pleased to hear this. "Isillien will be arriving tomorrow," he adds, "I assume you two know each other." Again I look to the ground. "Not too well, but yes we know each other."

"Good to hear, I assume you two will get along, if you don't give him any trouble. But remember, you will have your classes during that time together with the others." I still don't get why I was separated from the rest in the first place except maybe for shielding me from Whitemane's influence, but I thought Fairbanks was the one in charge of education. At least that was what he told me the evening I had arrived here. I guess this is all far too complicated for me to understand it fully and clearly.

"We will clear Northdale from the undead by midst next week." The High Inquisitor says this without any introduction or warning. For a moment I stand still with my mouth a bit open, trying to remember things from the time long ago when I lived there. I loved the area, all of it. The small lakes all around the town - in fact even in the town, making a big part of it to a peninsula. It was a quiet region, not too dangerous, almost no wild animals. Northdale was known for its fine wood. We had a big saw mill near the village. Most people who wanted wood from pines or spruce came to our little town.

"Fallen to your thoughts?" he asks with a faint laughter.

"I-I'm sorry, Sir"

"No, no ... it's fine young one. Cherish it." he replies, "I thought you would be happy to hear this." This time his smile is somehow irritating. "So..., Marc, the time for my departure draws closer, yet I still have something I need to give to you."

"For me?" I fumble.

"Yes, for you. I will be away for about two weeks. I know you've read a lot since you've arrived here. The secretary of the library was so kind to tell me. So I assumed you might want to read this..." he turns around and takes a very old looking book from his shelf. "I admit, there should more exciting lecture than this within the walls of our library, but I think you will come to approve of it, sooner or later." he hands it to me. "But please be careful with it, it is a rare piece from my private collection." The same bright smile is on his face again. "You may open it when you have returned to your quarters, lad." I nod and thank the High Inquisitor. "Now, would you excuse me, Marc? I still have to prepare important things for my leaving. May the Holy Light be with you during these two weeks, and may you be hard-working with your studies so you can show me some results after I have returned."

"I-I will, Sir. May the Holy Light be with you during your venture as well." I whisper the last words. I don't know but something about them just feels terribly wrong. Afterwards I quietly back off and leave the room. I take a careful look outside, but only after realizing that Captain Theran is not present any more I take the first step out of the doorway.

I head back to my room without any detours. I'm just too curious what this book is about that Fairbanks gave me with such words.

Rushing to close the door behind me, I already came up with some ideas what this could all be about. I am rather sure that the main subject of this book will also only be 'The Holy Light and his righteous Ways' just like the one Corren gave me on the day of his departure. I have to admit, I didn't read a single page from it until today.

I somewhat carelessly throw the book onto my bed and change my robe to a different one. It fits the mood better and makes me feel more comfy. After that I lie down and open the binder of the mystery book. I find its title on page three.

'Using the Arcane - Studying the Blue'

Alright, I've clearly lost my bet on it being about the Holy Light. To be frank I am a bit puzzled about it being a book about the arcane. This can't be right, can it? I wouldn't have expected a High Inquisitor handing me, an apprentice priest, such a book.

Yet still eager find out more about its content I turn the page and find the acknowledgement of the author. I always wonder why people thank their family for helping them with their book if they hardly did anything at all.

It reads: _'To my precious son and righteous husband - I love you. -_ _Tyrienna _'.

I've never heard that name before. Wondering about it skip through a couple of adjacent pages before returning to the one at hand. Ah, there it is, I manage to find an annotation on the opposite page. Tyrienna is supposed to be a mage of the Kirin Tor and a former pupil of Antonidas.

The first chapter is named 'Acknowledging the Blue'. What on earth this 'the Blue' is referring to I don't know. A bit confused I skip through the most of the book's pages once to have a look whether there are any pictures inside. I only discover a single one on one of the last pages. It shows a giant, seemingly old, dragon. The title 'The Spell-Weaver' is written underneath.

Now I understand..., 'the Blue' refers to Malygos.

I start reading a bit in chapter one. On the first page the author introduces us to the world of magic as we know it, a basic start in such books I guess, at least when I compare it to a few things I already have seen in the library. A bit later on she then briefly describes the blue dragon flight and its head - Malygos, the Spell-Weaver.

I still don't get why the High Inquisitor gave me this book. I don't want to become a mage - I want to be a cleric! Even while thinking this I cannot stop reading easily. And furthermore I fall for the part where the mage pictures 'the Blue'.

_The air around him bristled with ether. His very essence was magic. I felt it flowing directly through me, enhancing my vitality and my arcane potential with every breath I took. _

_It is said that he is the oldest still living dragon, yet only his rather thin body would have pointed out something like this. His eyes appeared like two gigantic glowing ambers, the scales around them pulsing in a strong, vivid blue tone, some even shifting shades of color as he spoke according to the tone of his voice, his pronunciation and the speed of his words. _

_His voice itself was clear as crystal. It was able to touch a beings soul as he talked without any much effort given. I found no to little accent as he spoke to me, though every once in a while a single word in his mother tongue, draconic would make it through. He spoke slowly and calmly, I guess he assumed he would make it easier for me to follow him. At first I was dazzled only by his app..._

A knocking on the door interrupts my reading.

I stand up slowly, barely managing to take my eyes of the text. "Just a moment, I'll be there in a second." I say loudly enough to be heard from outside.

I walk towards the door, as a second fiercer knocking makes me stop immediately. 'No, not again her', I think to myself and prepare to be verbally killed upon opening up.

Gathering all my courage I open the door. "I'm sorry that it took me so long, but I had to get up from bed and..." My words stop dead in their tracks as I see only an empty hallway.

Nobody is here?

I stare at the empty hallway in front of me for a moment or two before I decide to take a look to the left and the right. Yet still I can't spot anybody. Who was that?

I step back into my room. And just as I want to close the door behind me I take a last look, this time grazing the ground. I see something lying right in front of my door.

It's another envelope.

I pick it up and quickly go back into my room. Take a seat on my bed I start staring at the slightly dirty letter.

Should I open it, I silently question myself.

Fairbanks did everything to keep Whitemane away from me, yet again I don't even really understand why. Though I guess it is my fault that I couldn't bring up the courage to demand an answer to the 'why's' behind all of this.

On the other hand, no matter what the High Inquisitor says, she doesn't seem that dangerous to me at all. I admit there was something peculiar to the way how she speaks to others, but I can't even name what is up about that.

I close the book of the mysterious Tyrienna which is still lying behind me and put it to the side for the moment.

I am fighting against myself whether I should open the envelope or not. I fear I might disappoint the High Inquisitor on the very day he had left me, but on the other hand I long for answers, for a reason for all this private tutoring and the great distance to Whitemane.

With a trembling hand I pick the letter up again. Turning it around I see no signature on the outside of it.

I hesitate. I question whether it would be right, whether it would be okay. But how can I find an answer if I don't even know what 'wrong' would be in this particular moment. I sigh and let my forehead rest on my hands for a bit.

But I want to know what is going on right here. And I suppose the High Inquisitor wouldn't tell me even if I asked directly.

I finally make up my mind and take a knife from the table. The blade easily cuts through the paper and I pull the letter out. It is folded two times. I'm still reluctant to unfold it. Like a small child I close my eyes and display it properly before looking at it. Only then I open my eyes again slowly. I don't know why I am doing all this.

The letter itself is rather short, again without any signature, nor addressing at all. The handwriting is clean. It reads:

_I know what you want, Marc. I can give you an explanation for all this. _

_If you want to hear what I have to offer to you, meet me after your lesson tomorrow._

_And do not worry, I will find you. _

Why does nobody speak clearly for once?

I guess if I really want to know more about this, I will have to wait 'till tomorrow.

I sit on my bed for approximately another full hour, thinking about the letter and imagining what could happen tomorrow. What have I stirred up just now? I am a bit scared that Whitemane comes to see me and tries to tell me that I am some sort of savior or a new kind of Messiah for them. I don't think I am capable of that. Or maybe she tells me something about my father. Well at least that is what all people do. I guess I could prepare myself for that.

Coming to this frail peace of mind I forcefully put myself to rest on my bed. As I lie here and stare at the ceiling of my room I try to think of my parents. I can't really recall that much of my mother. I can hardly remember her face from the day when she left me and Dad and headed back to Dalaran. Basically all I know of her is that she was a member of the Kirin Tor, that she took part in important research - which was also reason for her to leave us - and that she was a beautiful woman with light brown eyes and long dark blonde hair. And lastly I remember her smile, the lovely warming smile that a mother has for her child.

I never hear anybody talking about Sarah Fipps, only about my father. My 'Oh he was so great' father. I just hate it when I think of my own thoughts as mocking. He was close friends with Uther the Lightbringer and he saved his life more than once after all. He deserves all this! He was head of the Royal Guard of King Terenas Menethil - the great protector. Of course he also was a local hero due to these facts, but... why does this all... this all has to fall back on me in such a way? Everybody only sees this hero, this great Bryan Fipps in me, but what if I am not like him? Everybody seems to be closing their eyes in front of this thought. I'm his heir - how could I betray the legacy?

Father? You wouldn't want it to be this way, would you?

I fall asleep still lying there on my bed wearing my robe.


	9. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 8

_Chapter 8: _

Due to the pain coming from my sore neck I wake up early the next morning. As I had fallen asleep I must have searched for a pillow, but only found a stray book next to me so I rested my head on that instead.

I don't really feel hungry at all this morning so I just skip breakfast. I'm so excited because of my first lesson held by the Grand Inquisitor Isillien today... not to mention the things that might happen afterwards. I turn my gaze to look at the envelope for a short moment.

With the spare time until then I decide to read onwards in the book about the Holy Light I borrowed from the library last week. I will have to give it back by tomorrow afternoon so somebody else seems to be in need of it. It also serves as a sort of preparation for later, at least that's what I try tell myself.

Time passes by fast and the bell signalizes the beginning of the afternoon rather sooner than later and therefore tells me to head over to class. Not wanting to be late I rush to the cathedral and towards the room where class is held, only to find most of my fellow students already there. I saw most of them only once during the time since I've arrived here, not counting in the common room where we get our meals. Most benches were tightly packed so I ask one random one of them with long blond hair sitting only a few feet in front of me, where I could find a free seat and if still more would come. He points out a bench directly in the front and one almost directly next to the entrance.

Although I hate sitting directly in front of everybody I choose the seat nearest to the teacher. My eyes are not so good either therefore I hardly have a choice about it.

I sit down and wait. Just as usual nobody is talking much and silence takes a hold on the room. I guess it's not too common to make friends among the members of the Crusade. After a couple of minutes another two students enter the room and sit down just directly at the door.

I can only suppose those were the last two missing except for our teacher.

Two pairs of footsteps appear some moments later at the end of the hallway. One of them is seemingly heavier, probably a rather tall grown man.

Everybody is looking to the door again, now awaiting the entrance of the Grand Inquisitor Isillien. And indeed a man enters, rather short, but apparently heavy. Yes, I remember him clearly from Mardenholde Keep in Hearthglen. He is wearing a crimson robe and the tabard of the Scarlet Crusade on top of that. The robe has fine golden linings, it always makes me wonder if they use real gold in the creation of such clothing. He himself has a weathered face. As he walks past me to the front of the class I see his green eyes gazing off into a blank void it seems. His hair already starts to turn greyish and his head is balding. He takes his first look at the class as he turns around.

"Good afternoon, students. Some of you may already know me, some may not, which by all means would be an atrocity. My name is Isillien, Grand Inquisitor of the Scarlet Crusade.", he finishes his introduction. "To cut things short: As you should already know I was asked by your teacher, the High Inquisitor Fairbanks to hold all of your lessons during the time of his absence. And I am most honored to be given this task." I think he overdoes it a bit. "Yet, sadly, I already have to turn you down on your first day with me as your teacher."

WHAT? What is he saying? I was so excited about this I couldn't sit still for even only two minutes straight and now he turns us down like this?

"Regrettably the High General Abbendis, once a close friend of mine and member of the founders of the Scarlet Crusade, has passed on. His untimely demise came upon us during one of the largest assaults of the Scourge on Hearthglen so far at the beginning of this week, as he bravely defended the walls of our bastion within the western plaguelands." One of the largest assaults of the Scourge so far? Oh my, I hope that not too much was destroyed. I am almost a bit glad about being here now and that Corren and Keira where elsewhere at that time too.

"Therefore I will have to attend a meeting on the promotion of the young madam Abbendis to High General, as well as making plans on strengthening the defense of Hearthglen in the western plaguelands. It is of utmost importance that we will not lose our footing within the hills." He then turns his head towards me and looks directly at me with a strange smile.

"Nonetheless, I will be teaching you from tomorrow on. And for your lesson today... you shall not be left untutored as I found a most suitable substitute teacher for you." he points to the door.

"You all should know the talented young Sally Whitemane, Inquisitor of the Crusade."

I turn around fast, Whitemane standing in the door. She is wearing almost the same outfit as last time when I saw her. Although I would imagine that this one is even tighter than the last. Does she want to seduce us with her looks or is she just so fond of herself? Nevertheless I guess I have to admit that she still does look great, even though I'd rather deny it.

After this introduction she casually starts walking past the students and up to the front.

"Thank you, Grand Inquisitor." her voice is calm as always and her facial expression does not even change for one second. "You wanted to start off directly with the spells you have invented, is that correct Grand Inquisitor Isillien?" She looks at him.

"Yes, that was what I had intended to do, Sally." he talks to her as if she is his daughter.

"Fine then. I shall start immediately."

"Thank you, Sally. I already have to make my leave. Time is pressing! Farewell apprentices of the Scarlet Crusade. May the Holy Light guide you on your way!" Upon finishing this sentence he leaves the room in a hurry.

Whitemane on the other hand is now staring directly at me whilst I was still looking at the Grand Inquisitor fleeing the scene. It almost seems as if she is smiling, but in the next moment she already looks back at the rest of the class with her usual emotionless expression. Somehow this woman scares me.

"So, without further delay I will begin." she takes a few small steps backwards as she starts to speak. "As you have heard only some moments ago, today I will introduce you to the two spells that the Grand Inquisitor Isillien invented personally.", she thinks for a moment. "The first thing I want to do is demonstrate them to you. Unfortunately, we do not have any training puppets in this part of the monastery, and even if we were to make our way into the armory, pestering Herod and his troupes one would not be able see the full effect of the casts on them.", her eyes wander through the room as if she is looking for someone or something.

"Luckily we all know how to dispel magic and how to heal each other by now. And even better - we all know what we want and why we are here. The strength of this magic is increased by certain factors, for example, feelings like doubt, hatred or fear." her words make me feel even more uncomfortable.

"Now I will need a volunteer for our little demonstration. No one? Alright then, would you please be so kind to assist me on this, apprentice by the name of Marc Fipps?"

No way! Everything in my head is ringing. She didn't even wait one single second before taking me.

"Now come on, no need to be shy..." Immediately she is trying to provoke me with words. I'm quickly to look towards the ground not responding at all.

"Alright then, I will have to take you by force." You can clearly hear that she is not talking seriously. Taking a step over to me, she is simply grabs my wrist and begins trying to pull me to up onto feet. Whilst doing this she comes close to me with her body, probably fully on purpose, her breasts almost touching my face. I bet everybody in the room would want to be in my place just right now... and I'd trade them anytime.

Finally I stand up with a sigh, careful not to bump into Whitemane.

She is quick to whisper something into my ear. "Boy are you prude, or are you just THAT shy?" She gives me an alluring look then she turns around again facing the class as I can still only blush.

"Marc, please stand over there for our demonstration. And it would be a good idea to lean against the wall, too." I do as she says and walk to the back of the room, even though I hesitate.

"The two spells I am going to show you now are the only, I repeat, THE ONLY two damage spells using light, or as we call it, holy magic. Do not confuse this with the fighting style of some paladins, they do not use such magic, they still do whatever damage they deal with their weapon. These spells are also different to other kinds of magic in one certain part."

Everybody is listening tensely, including me.

"No matter what you feel when you are hit by one of these spells, they don't do any form of damage to your physical body. Therefore no one, not a single creature can resist their damage in any way. For example, a fire elemental consists of fire and therefore its body cannot be harmed by using fire magic. In the worst case this would only strengthen it."

Whitemane now turns around to face me.

"These spells were initially created as a weapon against the Scourge and undead in general. Usually healing an undead would restore parts of his body, yet due to the plague inside of the creatures body, these parts would be destroyed immediately, which would eventually lead to the collapse of the body. Yet this being an effective way to dispose of the ghouls and minor warriors of the Lich King, it is basically useless against stronger enemies like a lich or a death knight. But due to the different approach of these two spells, that I am going to show you in a few minutes, we are able to inflict damage upon even these entities."

Some of the other students are taking down notes as Whitemane speaks. I don't know, this is all some nice background information, but when we have to learn the spell itself, it won't help too much.

"The spell itself does the same as a healing spell does. It aims directly for the spirit of the target. A healing spell would try to restore it, due to this the self-healing process will be increased to an unnatural amount. Nature magic on the other hand basically does the opposite, it targets the physical form of a being and restores the body into the shape it was." she takes a deep breath.

"Like I already mentioned, the damage done by the spell is affected by feelings, just as a heal would be too. Some feelings let the spirit flutter. The feelings with the greatest effect in a negative way are by far doubt, restlessness, rage, fear, hatred. Some people even add disbelief and insanity to the lot. Based on this, these spells become a lot more efficient against the undead soldiers of the Lich King, as they all are consumed by rage, hatred and restlessness. Some of them who died struggling even still inherit doubt amongst the other feelings. Furthermore, the target does not have to be undead so that the spell can do the damage it needs. You can attack wild animals, or defend yourself against them as they are driven to attack either by rage, fear or desire – in this case probably hunger."

It's hard to try and take your thoughts off of all this, to not be overwhelmed by any of the mentioned feelings. Whitemane picks up a piece of paper from the table and displays it with her hands.

"The first spell I want to show you is called 'Smite'. Basically you infuse a large amount of holy magic into the spirit of your target by force! A healing spell is laid onto the spirit from the outside so it can be swallowed bit by bit, just the amount needed. However, with this spell the infusion is forced. Due to this, portions of the spirit can be ripped away, figuratively speaking at least." She rips an edge off from the sheet of paper in her hands to stress her point.

"No matter what you feel, Marc, you are not taking physical damage! Try to keep that in mind, sweetie."

Whitemane then suddenly looks at me with cold eyes.

Only a split second later I am pushed back heavily against the wall. The impact is incredibly hard and I can't hold my balance so I drop to my knees. I utter in pain for a moment. It feels as if several ribs are broken. I reach to my chest, but it does not hurt when I touch it. Not a single drop of blood was spilled. The pain is incredible. I can't stand it! I look up to Whitemane in agony as I writhe in pain.

She is standing there, her back to the class. I can't see her face, it lies completely in shadows from down here. I only see the red linings around her eyes, they seem to be glowing unnaturally. But I can't really tell... Everything is blurry, but I think she is smiling at me.

What a gruesome gesture.

She waves with her hand once and the pain I feel slowly goes away.

"Sit there for a moment, Marc. You will feel no more pain in a moment or two." I barely manage to nod and sit down onto the floor still holding my chest. The other students all look quite shocked by the effect of the spell cast.

"This spell is called 'Smite' because of the heavy impact it has upon the soul. Most people are pushed back by the impact the magic has upon entering your spirit. A large amount of victims even fly backwards for about two or three meters. The stronger and denser your spirit is, the lesser the impact and the pain. The Champion of Scarlet Crusade, Herod, for example would surely have still felt some pain, but the impact would have been reduced to a minimum."

My anguish is easing. She looks utmost pleased by the outcome. I was so helpless against the spell.

"The second spell invented by the Grand Inquisitor is called 'Holy Fire'. This one is still more similar to a healing spell. The magic you use is also laid onto the outside of the spirit, yet it will cover it up completely, if I may speak figuratively again. The aim of this spell is to make the spirit of the target unstable. The layer of holy magic on the outside of the spirit can be triggered. If this happens, it will let the 'outside of the spirit' be restlessly moving like flames. This effect will take on until the magic is dispelled or the effect wears off. Depending on the caster this 'Holy Fire' can last between only a few seconds and up to several hours. The feeling a target has basically comes close to..., well, being on fire as a manor of fact. Above that, with the spirit so shattered, the target will not be able to cast spells on his own easily. You have to counter the effect of the 'Holy Fire' immediately or you will not be able to remove it, remember this!"

She turns back to me.

"Now, for my little demonstration, you will see what happens without it being dispelled soon enough. Just stay there - preferably sitting, Marc."

She again waves with her hand. Something is feeling strange about this. I feel cold. Unnaturally cold all of a sudden.

Whitemane waves for a second time. Nothing happens?

Then it suddenly kicks in. I scream out loud as I can't hold it in. All the students in the room look stricken by horror. Two of them even fall backwards off their seats.

"It burns! Put it out! Put it out!" I almost cry from the pain. Why me? Why always me?

I scream.

I can't think a single clear thought anymore, my mind has been broken by the spell already. I try to put the fire out with my hands, not noticing anymore that there is no real fire. I roll on my back in pain.

"I guess that should be sufficient..." Whitemane raises her hand and the burning stops. I still lie there on the cold stone, turning in pain. Again she casts a healing over time spell on me.

Her voice is as cold as ice. "So my students, these are the two spells the Grand Inquisitor Isillien invented. How you will be able to use them, what you have to do and in which way you have to concentrate you will be taught by Isillien himself tomorrow. I will end this lesson a bit earlier so I can patch up our volunteer." She looks at me over her shoulder. The pain slowly passes away. I feel even weaker and more helpless than ever before. This is only making me feel worse.

"May the Light guide you, the class is officially dismissed."

The students jump to their feet and hurry to leave the room, I've never heard so much talking among them before.

I still lie on the floor, feeling the pain ebbing away only slowly. Maybe now I can get up to my feet.

Whitemane comes closer and crouches down next to me, it's a wonder her outfit covers anything at all.

"You should strengthen your soul, boy. I hardly put any efforts into my spells. I could have killed you easily."

Somehow now I can think of reasons why one should keep her away from students. She is seductive, her heart is as cold as ice, her teaching is unorthodox and she is just all in all dangerous!

"Awww, now don't look at me like that, Marc. I was just fooling around with you." This was the first time when I heard her speaking in a different tone, but still she won't be fooling me. I know that she is ice cold. "Can you stand up?"

I think for a moment before I respond, "I will try..."

"Fine, then get up to your feet and follow me to my chambers behind the cathedral. That's an order!"

She gets up full of swing, literately letting everything of her body bounce up and down. I look a bit bewildered at her, not thinking this is the appropriate time for this. She just winks at me as she sees the impression on my face.

"Oh come on, loosen up a bit, idiot." it sounds strange to hear her normally so emotionless voice trying to tell me things like this.

I finally manage to get to my feet and follow her slowly out of the room. "The entrance is behind the altar." she points out, as we walk along. "I have my chambers to the left of the corridor the Mograines live on the right side of it."

I didn't expect there to be such a large building still behind the cathedral. Without any further detours Whitemane leads me directly to her chambers. "Come in, come in, I won't bite you." Actually I can imagine her biting me... I think she is capable of a lot of things...

"Sit down somewhere over there, Marc. I'll just get rid of a few unnecessary things." She takes the hat off she is always wearing in class and puts it onto the shelf standing in the corner. The room is huge. I suppose this is her living quarters though I don't see a bed, although there is a rather large and round table in one corner with chairs around it for about ten people. On the opposite side of the room there is a big shelf and a closet next to a giant mirror. In the middle of the room there is an elegant red carpet with loads of pillows lying on it. The room has three doors plus the one we have entered through. Whitemane turns to the closet and takes her tabard, the gloves and her high heeled boots off, leaving her dressed only in that tight scarlet leather body of hers. My eyes follow her body in bewilderment. How can she just undress like that in front of a student?

"So you do actually want so hear what I have to offer you?"

I don't answer. She already knows what I would want to say. She walks to the middle of the room and literally falls onto the pile of pillows. The way she looks at me feels unpleasant. That smile of hers...

"Now then, go ahead ask me anything you want to know. I can tell you maybe not everything, but most of it to set a few things in your head straight. This is your one and only chance, as long as the old man is away."

She clearly is referring to Fairbanks.

It takes me a moment to think of a suitable question. So I decide to start with the obvious.

"W...why me?"

Whitemane tilts her head back. "Okay, I had imagined that you'd come up with something more precise, but if this is the question you have, I shall answer. But..." she raises her hand, "this may take a while."

I nod. It is hard to look into her eyes and it is not because she has this amazing body, it is as if you are looking into endless shadows when seeing directly into them. The red linings around them only emphasizing this even more.

"I can imagine that you are sick of having people tell you how great your parents were and I can also imagine that you expect me to tell you that the reason for all this should be your father. Am I right?"

I nod silently, good call.

She makes a short gesture with her left hand, for the first time I notice a whole lot of scars on its backside and further up the arm. I wonder where those might come from for a moment, but I am easily distracted from this as Whitemane continues to talk.

"Too easy of an answer... Well, it is not because of your father... not solely at least." I raise an eyebrow being curious to hear more. "How to put it? You inherit..., or no, no even further, you are something pure."

"What?" I bluntly interrupt her.

"Just listen, you will understand all of it soon enough. At least I hope so.", she makes a short pause. "I guess the old man told you about the affliction that light and shadow hold to each other. Well and usually a person can use only one type of magic to its full extent in this world, yet we are also always drawn to the direct opposite, except for a few smaller exceptions – that being those who rely on mother nature or the pure arcane. Those who use nature magic are constantly drawn to all other aspects of magic except for arcane, which does not necessarily mean the person can use the magic in any way or form proficiently. And arcane mages, who are the only who can use this type of magic, are drawn to no other aspects, though they continue to seek for more and more arcane power, a vicious circle. Or a drug if you so desire." She sits up on her pillows.

"And this is precisely where you come in. You are not drawn to some sort of magic, and yet you don't know what kind of magic you can use at all. You still can choose what you will become. That is a gift very few people have. Your father left you the illusion that you have to become a paladin or at least someone who is able to control the 'power of the light'. Your mother on the other hand gave you the far more important features, that you are not drawn to something predetermined and with it the ability to achieve unlimited potential."

"You... you know my mother?" I ask astonished, ignoring all of the rest.

"Most people know your mother; they just don't know that you are her son. Your father was a local hero around here, so all these idiots are talking about is him. Your mother on the other hand is known on both continents."

"So may her death be just a... rumor?" I speak the words before truly thinking about them.

"Silly boy, still holding on to your frail hopes and dreams I see? She died during the destruction of Dalaran by Archimonde. The Kirin Tor are still mourning about her death." She leans back.

"So why does nobody know about her connection to me?" It again bursts out of me.

"For your own sake, idiot, she wanted to protect you by all means necessary. But please, chose a different topic. I will not answer any more questions about your mother. This will serve nobody's end." she waves with her hand once. I flinch because her gesture is the same as during the 'lesson' from earlier.

"So you are saying that I still can choose what I want to become, and all this Holy Light business is just something I made up because of my father?" the expression on my face must seem pretty confused.

"Basically that is right. From the effects of my spells today I can quite easily state that you have never used a spell using light magic successfully till now, am I right?"

I can barely think of all my tries during the time when I was in Hearthglen without a single one being successful in any form.

I nod.

"The old man wants you to become a fine cleric, you see, the potential you have for magic is nearly endless. You will be able to master the kind of magic you choose to the fullest, no matter what. Someone like this in the ranks of the Scarlet Crusade would be sheer priceless." Whitemane clinches her fist.

"You..., you must be joking? You can't be talking about me..." I follow my instincts and look to the ground.

"Stop being so doubtful in yourself! You never were taught in any sort of magic and someone like you needs a teacher, at least for a start. That is just simply normal. Now stop making a fool of yourself!" her tone is angry and a bit annoyed. I imagine her growling at me before she speaks up again. "Do you have any further questions?"

"Well..., well yes, I have one."

"Go ahead..." she pushes me into going on.

"Why is the High Inquisitor so... afraid of you?"

"Hm? Ah, you mean with teaching the students? Well, I don't usually teach the way I did today, if that calms you down a bit, except if I want to know some things for certain. He mainly fears that I might influence them and as you can see, I'm well aware of this fact. But I have my duty as well... I'm here to keep the balance, you know." her voice is darkening.

"Balance?" I ask straight forward.

"Every light needs a shadow. This is the way this world works. I was once a bit like you, not being able to choose myself of course. I found my connection to the light rather early. But it turned out that I was far more efficient with the usage of shadow spells and the light was just the magic I was drawn to instinctively." she draws a deep breath. "Fairbanks wants you to be a cleric, but if you want to use holy magic your soul must be calm and persistent and sorry Marc, but that just is not what your soul is. Yet I see your true potential and I can offer you something stronger than the light, something more forgiving if you feel restless or angry."

I don't know what to say to all of it, this is all so..., so overwhelming.

"I want to show you something more, but only later, when it is dark outside. This should be in about three hours from now. I will get you from your quarters personally. Now, do you want to see what I have to show you?" she winks at me. Despite all the plainly obvious innuendos I am relatively sure that it all has a meaning to it.

"I... I guess so.", I try not to look at her.

"Do you, or do you not...?" her tone is pressing.

"Ye-yes, I do." I finally manage to say.

"Fine then, Isillien will join us there, I hope that is no problem for you." she says that already knowing the answer. "Alright then, you should rest for a while, any last question?"

"Actually..." I stutter a bit.

"Yeees? What is it?"

"Actually... why does captain Theran hate me that much...?"

"I have no idea. That are your personal affairs.", her tone is harsh. "Do you want to rest here or in your own quarters?" I can't believe she really asks me that.

"I... I will go to my quarters. Tha-thank you." her presence makes me incredibly uncomfortable.

"Oh boy, so uptight... but suit yourself. Then out you go, you got three hours to rest." she does not stand up from the pillows, "And be sure to close the door behind you."

I quickly leave the room and do as she says. That woman gives me the creeps, in one moment she is as cold as ice and in the next she tries to seduce you with her body.

I reach my quarters fast, after all they are not too far away from the cathedral. I definitely have to change my robe. I almost ripped something off when I was trying to stop the pain from this Holy Fire spell of Whitemane. I blindly take one out of the drawer and put in onto my bed at first.

I take the spare moment and lie down on my bed trying to recall the things that had happened today. A whole lot of stuff I now have to cope with somehow.

Can this all really be the truth? I just don't want to believe Whitemane. But what if she is right?

The pressure of being like my father would be relieved, yet just so a new pressure could arise out of nowhere.

Is there really no easy way?


	10. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 9

_Chapter 9: _

I've been lying on my bed for about two hours now without doing anything. I'm not even thinking right now. My head is filled up by a gigantic void. I feel strangely exhausted, yet I have not been able to sleep until now nor will I be able to after having met with Whitemane again.

Years over years everybody has always just talked about my father, how great of a man he had been and that I would surely become just like him some day to come. And now, from one moment to the other everything has changed completely. My whole world had been turned around on the whim of a single person. Suddenly my mother is supposed to be far more important than my father, although nobody even knows the connection between me and her. What's next? Somebody telling me I am part of a royal bloodline? I just cannot believe this is all happening...

Whitemane told me that I could still choose 'my path', but I've chosen to become a priest already, haven't I? All I wanted was my father to be proud of me, even though I will never be able to become a paladin. I just wanted him to be able to smile upon my progress, dead or not. And I don't want to interfere with the arcane, fire or ice.

Damn it! Now I'm even more insecure than I was before.

But right now, I can't do much but to try and focus again. Whitemane should arrive here any minute now. And even though I think I want to become a cleric, I still also want to know what she has to show me. Yet should it have anything to do with the shadows, I..., I will reject it. I swear to myself, I will turn her down if she tries to persuade me into the darkness. I want to be a sincere cleric, not something filthy and seductive as she is.

Mere seconds later, I can hear footsteps outside.

It sounds as if Whitemane is among them, those boots giving her away easily within these halls.

Moments later I hear a knocking on my door. Quickly I rush to open it.

"Don't take anything with you, young Fipps. We are in a hurry." She tells me right of the bat, leaving me to wonder what she means by that.

"Where are we going?" I ask just after I closed the door of my room behind me.

"You will see soon enough and with your own eyes my dear." She smiles at me, the expression strangely distorted. There we go again, all this secret keeping all of the time. Quietly I calm myself down knowing that I should know everything in a few minutes. Then again, I can only wonder: why do I even trust this woman...?

"Isillien is already waiting for us there. So we have to speed up a bit. But don't worry it's not too far away from here." She keeps her voice down trying not to wake anybody, which I would think is impossible just from wearing those boots of hers.

As we pass through the moonlight for once I notice that she is wearing a full uniform for a change and even has her inquisitorial staff with her. The staff itself is about as tall as Whitemane and looks as if it was crafted from pure gold, in the headpiece it is adorned by a red, always slightly glowing jewel. Now I start to wonder even more where we could be heading to during these dark hours.

As we reach the central hall of the monastery, I think I can spot the Grand Inquisitor waiting for us. And indeed he is. He is standing in front of the entrance to the cemetery, right next to the two guards. As we come closer, he briefly greets me and Whitemane in a somewhat awkward yet friendly fashion.

"Good evening, Isillien. Ready for the interrogation?" Whitemane's words sound darker and more disturbing than usual.

"It is my pleasure to attend, Sally." A grim smile takes a hold of his face. This does not look anything like the Grand Inquisitor Isillien I know from Hearthglen. He hardly never smiled, was always calm and thoughtful. "I cannot wait to question that bastard, to press out every little bit of information, even if I have to..." His voice quickly rises, he sounds angry, like in a fit of rage.

"That is enough Isillien! You will have your chance to give in to your rage when we are down there with the prisoners, but be careful! For now, stand down! Concerning you..." She turns around to face me. "Marc, do not be frightened of what you may see within those catacombs. All those creatures down there are being held secure at all means. None of them will be able to harm you in any way or form. And if one of the creatures should be able to escape, rest assured that I will take care of it personally."

Her words rightfully frighten me. "Do you understand?"

I'm quick to nod in response. "Ye-yes."

She takes a step towards the guards and Isillien, but turns around instantly. "Oh, and one more thing: ALWAYS do exactly as I say. If something unusual should happen and you don't, you will probably die." I swallow hard as the last of the words still echo in my ears. Isn't that a bit contrary to the things she said before I ask myself. Again I have no real choice to make.

"Yes I.., I will." She then takes me by the shoulder and pushes me forward.

"Good boy."

Whitemane doesn't hesitate any longer and gives the guards the order to let us enter. Immediately they open the heavy door they've been watching so thoughtfully until now. Hidden behind it we find a staircase going down. From my point of view it is pitch black down there.

"The first interrogators are probably already at work, so don't mind the screams. Watch your step for now, it will lighten up when we reach the end of the staircase." The expression I receive is scaring me though I still wonder what awaits me down there.

The first gleam of light is visible after a short while. We should be at our destination rather soon though the staircase proves to be longer than I had expected at first. We must already have gone down at least two or three floors.

The lights hanging from the walls and ceiling flickers, the flames of the torches feed on the wind coming in, probably through windows somewhere down here.

The stairs end in a large open room. Several columns spread out all over it are keeping the structure stabilized. It feels almost as if we are in a cavern.

A man approaches us with quick steps. He is wearing a black uniform with red highlights and a scarlet hood. "Lady Whitemane, always a pleasure to see you." He bows upon speaking.

"Cut it out Vishas! Just tell us where the new prisoners are and what you have already gotten out of them." She is extremely harsh to him.

"One of the three is held in a cage next to the iron maiden, so he has a chance to think of things we could do to him later on. The second one is held in a cell back with the other 'live' prisoners and the third is strapped to the rack. That is the one we were questioning until now." He eagerly turn a couple of pages inside a notebook he holds in his hand.

"So? Did you found out anything at all!" Isillien interferes.

"Honestly? Not too much, my lord. I'm afraid they are a bit stronger than the others that came before them. They're by far not as easy to break as the ones during the last weeks. Only thing we can tell for sure is that one of them was carrying a basket with mushrooms and herbs around..."

"Which one of them was that?" Whitemane speaks in a hurry before Isillien could interfere again.

"The one in the cell, he also wore a peculiar robe. We think he is part of this strange alchemists guild that has been formed by the undead. The other two wore the same guard's uniform as we have already collected several others. "

Meanwhile the Grand Inquisitor is standing uneasily, his fingers twitching nonstop.

"What do you think about the purpose of their venture? Why did they travel this far into our lands?" Whitemane remains completely calm in heavy contrast to Isillien.

"Well the one with the robe was definitely gathering herbs, but the two armed guards with him suggest that this could also be a small assault group. We do not know if one of them had potions or chemicals with him so they could mix something to poison us in our sleep. It is possible they swallowed it before being taken captive." All in all this explanation of him does not seem that reliable to me.

"Were there more except these three, James?"

"Possibly. We don't know if some escaped us before the rest took a stand. What we know for sure is that none of them died. And the guards only found these three and took them all in." He continues looking through his notes while he speaks.

"I WANT TO SEE THEM!" Isillien bursts out "NOW!"

"Shhh! Calm yourself for another minute..." Whitemane's voice is smooth and gentle. "Did you already use the rack, or is the prisoner strapped on it just for intimidation?" She asks the interrogator.

"Just as an intimidation so far. But we couldn't get anything out of him so we intended using it rather sooner than later."

"Well then, take us to him. I want to question him personally and if he still refused to spill his little secrets... use the rack or whatever is necessary to make him." She orders lightheartedly.

"As you wish, milady. The prisoner is this right way." He bows again slightly and points out the way with his left arm. "Follow me, please."

We pass through under at least three archways supporting the underground structure. My eyes wander towards the ceiling, finding it completely covered with frescos. Sadly due to the weak lighting I'm not able to make out anything of what the pictures show as we walk below them.

As I hear a strange uttering from around the corner Vishas states the obvious.

"We are almost there, as you can hear."

We turn around a corner behind a column and are immediately standing inside a small cubicle room, the huge rack taking up most of the space in it.

On the rack there is a creature as I have never seen one before. It is clearly undead, but it certainly is not a mindless ghoul. It's, or better, his eyes are glowing in a bright yellow, the fire burning in his soul. He still has most of his teeth and hair. Only his skin is grey like ashes. The body is also completely intact. If there wouldn't be those parts where you can see his bones or where bigger lumps of flesh and skin are missing, you could actually think that he is still alive. I swallow hard. The sight is disturbing on a completely different level.

"Marc focus! This is an enemy. He may not be from the ranks of the Scourge, yet this breed is intelligent and therefore even more dangerous than the blundering mindless ghouls of the Lich King!"

Whitemane tries to talk me into it.

"Now, do you remember what I wanted to show you?" She asks me in a surprisingly soothing tone of her voice.

"Ye...yes, of course I do.", I respond instantly still staring at the thing in front of me.

"Fine then... Remember that I can only show you such things here in this place, under these circumstances because I wouldn't want somebody 'unprepared' to witness any of it and neither would I want to use this on anybody from the Scarlet Crusade in order to demonstrate it."

She steps closer to the creature. "Come on now. Come closer... It's tightly strapped to the rack. It won't be able to free itself."

I hesitate but Isillien pushes me closer from behind. As I stand directly at the rack I can clearly smell rotten flesh.

"Now, let's start part two of your lesson today. I introduced you to holy magic earlier and I assure you, at the current state you will not be able to use it by any means." Isillien in the background nods silently.

"This time I will show you its opposite and I assure you, you will be able to control this type of magic to its full extend right from the start, even now. I will show you, or well you could even say I will teach you, three spells. They all use shadow magic and all of them are used by clerics throughout Azeroth. So you could call them basics I presume." She smiles at me knowingly. For the moment I don't try to think too much, I just listen to her words. I'm unsure if I even want to hear what she wants so teach me, but I can't leave anyhow.

"Shadow magic works pretty simply, you will find. Usually you have a word or the name of the spell to help you focus on the desired effect. You do not need this when weaving the spell itself, although you can use this as a kind of backup for your mind and focus, but that is all a matter of practice and in the end personal style. For performing the spell itself you only have to concentrate on what you want to do. That is all you have to do. Yet this makes it sound a bit easier then it is." She raises her right hand into the air over the rack.

"The first spell is known as the 'Shadow Word: Pain' and it does just what the name states. It inflicts pain to the target. Other than holy magic, shadow spells inflict their damage on the spirit AND the body. Somebody attacked with 'Holy Fire' won't show any remains of physical damage once the effect wears off. 'Shadow Word: Pain' on the other hand can cause old wounds to open, twist flesh or if performed by somebody very powerful, even shatter bones."

Isillien clutches his fists and reopens them behind me, I can tell only from hearing it. He can barely control himself. Whitemane also notices and offers him merely an annoyed look before she takes her hand back. "Isillien? Don't you want to have a look at our new prisoner in the cell?"

His eyes show an unnatural glare. "Oh, I do want to, Sally."

Whitemane turns to the head of the interrogators and orders him to escort Grand Inquisitor Isillien to the new prisoner. Both of them head of immediately. It's not far from here, after they've passed three or four archways. Isillien and the other man enter the cell somewhere out of my line of sight.

With a sigh she turns back to me. "Where were we?" She thinks for a short moment. "Ah yes. The only truly important thing you would have to know about shadow magic is that power always comes at a cost. The shadows seek for blood, pain and agony, they don't care from whom it comes, but every shadow spell will have its cost. If it is performed in the right way, the target or victim will pay the cost for you. But if the spell is deflected or improperly cast, you will have to pay the debt yourself. And much like with the holy arts, the strength of the spell will also be influenced by feelings you inherit. If for instance you feel rage, restlessness, agony or hatred, the shadows will also feed upon these feelings and the spell will be cast with much less effort and the effect will be far more devastating. Yet be careful... also will be the debt that has to be paid in case of a failed cast."

So that is the reason for the awful lot of scars on her left arm?

"I will now demonstrate the first cast. Attention!" She raises her hand back into the air over the rack.

Her lips move without a sound, her eyes closed. As she reopens them the undead in front of us starts writhing in pain. He screams out loud, his voice sounding dark and strangely hollow.

"This will now keep on for approximately a minute or two. I didn't put too much effort into it.", her words are again as cold as ice.

I see the undead in front of me screaming in pain. For a moment I wonder how a creature like this can even have feelings at all. And the more time that passes the more clearly I develop a form of disgust inside me, although I cannot tell if it is because of the undead or this type of magic.

It feels as if this sole minute lasts ages until the undead finally comes to a rest again.

"The second spell I want to show you, is called 'Mindflay'" She just goes on without paying any attention to the undead lying in front of us, "the characteristic of it is a blue beam emitting from ones finger to the head of the target. Especially for interrogation it is quite useful due to the effect that you can most literally read the memories of your target. But you have to be careful! As long as you perform it the vital functions of your victim will slow down increasingly, so if you do not want to kill your target and just question him or her, handle this spell with utmost care or the target might die because its heart simply stops beating."

She gives me a short look checking if I'm listening and watching her, then she turns back to the undead, pointing with two fingers at the head of the prisoner. A light blue beam emits from her fingertips for a split of a second. During this brief moment the room is filled by a cold blue tone.

"You see..." Whitemane appears to be a bit out of breath, "... it is difficult to retain this spell in motion. Yet I saw something important in the mind of this creature, so I stopped it right away." Her voice is shacking a bit as she pants for breath. In this one moment I'm not really sure whether she speaks the truth or if this is just an excuse for something.

"The third spell I wanted to show you is simply called 'Mind Blast'. To keep it short, the spell can 'blast away' memories of the target. It actually erases them. Partial and even severe damage to the brain can also occur, depending on how much effort you put into it. To cast this spell without harming the target you have to be absolutely concentrated. So please Marc, be quiet for a moment as I focus on the task at hand."

I nod, although I've been quiet the whole time we have been down here until now.

Whitemane points both her hands at the undead. Again she is mumbling something with her eyes closed. As she opens them again and the spell is ready, we both flinch because we hear a horrible drawn out scream from somewhere behind us.

Due to the loss of concentration the spell Whitemane was channeling goes wrong and the undead winces in agony. This stops abruptly though. Now he is lying quietly on the rack without any further movement, a dark liquid oozing out of his nose and ears.

"Goddamn him! ISILLIEN!" Whitemane seems furious.

Another scream is emitted from the cell with Isillien and the other prisoner, followed by a fierce, mischievous laughter. The voice surely sounds like Isillien, but can this really be the calm and gentle man that I got to know in Hearthglen?

"Wait here!" Whitemane orders me. "That fool."

She hurries to the cell with the other prisoner. I see from a distance how she opens the door and vanishes inside the room. I don't understand what they are saying, but Whitemane is clearly yelling at him. It sounds as if Isillien is still laughing.

Whitemane then quickly leaves the room, now heading back towards my direction. She still seems furious. I don't have the heart so ask what happened right now.

She walks right past me to the interrogator squad. "I need to talk to the head of the guards immediately! I want to meet him upstairs in five minutes." One of the men nods and rushes off to the staircase without any further word.

It doesn't take much longer for Whitemane to turn back to me.

"Come with me. We are undertaking an emergency field-trip right away."

"What?" It just bursts out of me.

"We need to get something from the undead urgently. But Isillien, that fool, killed the one of the group that knew most about it. And due to the... interruption, I accidentally killed the one we questioned. That idiot should learn to control his rage. He's jeopardizing all of our lives!" She increases her pace. "You are coming with me!"

I don't know what more to be shocked about..., that madman that seems to be Isillien, who I knew only as a gentle and caring person before tonight, or Whitemane telling me to go with them onto a field trip in the middle of the night. "Bu... but I won't be of any use?" We just reach the staircase as I fumble out these words, letting her take a full stop for a brief moment.

"Stop talking like a fool, just come with us. Remember what I told you earlier..., you have to do everything I say." She gives me a short smile before her expression darkens again. "THAT'S AN ORDER!"

I guess it would be better if I don't annoy her any further, she is still too enraged.

Doing the only thing reasonable, I stay quiet for the rest of the way up.


	11. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 10

_Chapter 10: _

The way back up the stairs seems endless despite having travelled into the opposite direction not too long ago. As we finally manage to reach the upper level, the head of the guard is already waiting for us. He is a tall grown man, probably in his beginning thirties. He has short black hair and a chin-beard. A scar marks his right cheek as battle hardened.

"It's good to see you are capable of following your given orders, lieutenant Narval." Whitemane greets him not too friendly.

"And it's good to see you too, Sally, even though I would prefer other occasions." He smiles at us ignoring the harsh intro.

"We need people for a small field trip to Brill immediately! I'll be leading it personally. It is of utmost importance for all our sakes! Do you understand?" The tone of voice is urging and relentless.

"I didn't expect it to be this dramatic... Well, I will gather some men for you. I'll see what I can find..., give me twenty minutes, Sally." His words are strong, showing no sign of being dominated by her.

"You have ten, and don't you dare to take any longer!" She on the other hand lets everything sound like a threat. The lieutenant bows briefly and heads off with quick steps to call some of his soldiers to arms.

Not even two minutes have passed when Whitemane crosses her arms and starts tapping her foot. I feel even more uncomfortable standing next to her now, especially as she is impatient like that.

A muzzled scream travels to our ears from downstairs.

"To hell with that fool! Why must he kill the last surviving one too?" She almost starts shouting at me. When I first met her I could have never imagined her to become this furious. Usually she's calm and most of all things, as cold as ice with every fabric of her being and now? I'm standing here right by her side watching as she starts walking around in circles like a cages animal.

"Sometimes I wonder how anybody like him can be in the leadership of the Crusade... He always overdoes it!" She mumbles into the darkness around us, anger clearly driving her words.

I didn't know this side of him, in Hearthglen he was always rather quiet and reserved, but hearing Whitemane talk like this it seems that stuff like 'this' happens rather often. How couldn't I notice?

And Whitemane keeps on talking to herself, probably a reaction to the sudden distress.

"Sometimes I hope he'd die because of his recklessness. We don't need such an idiot in one of the top positions. Give me one good reason not to kill him!" It sounds as if she is talking mad due to a fever.

"Now now Sally, calm down again, everything will be fine. We just have to recover that one little book from the undead and those bastards won't get a chance to strike at us..." Luckily for me she actually calms down a bit.

Still the minutes pass uneasily, but now I can already see the lieutenant again and I am pretty sure he made it prior to the end of the deadline set by Whitemane. The moment she spots him, she stops walking around dead in her track.

"Here we are, Sally. Ten of my finest men ready to go out into battle." He bows slightly upon returning.

"Finally! Then follow me, men." She speaks whilst offering the warriors a strict look.

"Should I join you, Sally?" Narval asks out of the blue.

"No!" Her answer comes immediately, "You stay here and watch over Isillien. He let his rage take over again. Go down there and settle him! Restrain him if you have to for all I care! We can't afford him to kill any more of the prisoners... "

"Aye, milady. As you wish." He takes the stairs downwards at once.

"Now, for the rest of you, follow me and be prepared to have to fight against heavy resistance once we leave sacred ground." She takes the lead as we hurry out of the Monastery. "We will go by foot, horses would track too much attention. Nevertheless we have to be swift!" She announces and we head on out into the silence of the night.

Whitemane continues her briefing as we reach the small road that leads down from the hill the monastery is built upon.

"Our main objective will be a book of the Apothecary Society of the so-called Forsaken. It is currently situated in a rather small house in the middle of the city formerly known as Brill." As I hear the name of the city, my heart figuratively jumps up to my throat. "Because we captured three of their men yesterday, they will probably be on their guard, so be careful and do not underestimate them!"

Wow... I'm going to be in Brill again... I'm going home? This is the only thing my mind can come up with at this present moment, shutting out most of Whitemanes words completely.

"If the book is recovered, we leave the town immediately! There shall be no unnecessary hostilities and I don't look forward to filing any casualties on side either..., so tread lightly!"

We now slowly leave the grounds of the Scarlet Crusade and go deeper into the dark forests of Tirisfal.

"I will take care of the protection of the civilian in our ranks personally, yet if the group should be separated by whatever means, protect him at all cost." She seems to be referring to me, "If he should die or be taken captive, I will take care personally that everybody responsible will hang by noon tomorrow! There will be no excuses! And take my word... I will have your head for it!" Her words are colder than usually, she really means what she says.

We reach the end of the forest and currently we are standing on a hill overseeing the town of Brill. It looks very much the same as it did before the plague and the Scourge started to wreak havoc in the lands of Lordaeron. There is maybe only one or two houses missing from the picture in my memory.

Whitemane quietly raises her hand signalizing everybody to stops and get down. We all crunch down without delay, those directly at the edge lie down completely. From up here I can see two lights moving around within the town, both probably coming from torches. I guess those are from guards on their duty. But I guess two guards are not that much compared to ten warriors of the crusade, plus Whitemane herself.

She points out with her hand that we should back off from the edge of the hill. As we reach a short distance, she starts talking again.

"As I have seen, the house is almost in the middle of the town, opposite to the former town hall and next to the stables." No, that is not where I lived some time ago. Our house was much nearer to the blacksmith and the inn. "We will try to go around the city as far as possibly. The main problems will be: if we go around south of the village, we will have to pass the watchtower behind Brill and if we go north, we have to go through the whole village most likely, yet we don't endanger ourselves attracting more attention from the ruins of Lordaeron. And that would most likely be the worst case scenario."

Whitemane thinks on her own words for a moment.

"We will take the risk and approach from the north. Head back the way we came, there should be a small passage down the hill up north."

The men do as she says without any further reaction - it is complete compliance on display.

"We will try to lie low as long as possible and take out guards by surprise. No falling out of line! So watch your steps as you walk through the village and be careful should you pass the stables. They keep their undead steeds in there and they are no less skittish than their living counterparts!" Quickly we descend down the path to the foot of the hill.

Undead horses...? I have never seen or heard of any of those. Makes me wonder what they might look like, though this is hardly the time to be thinking about something like this.

"Once you can see the cemetery of Brill, nobody says a single word. Don't dare to make one sole sound!" These are the last words we all hear from her before reaching the end of the small passage.

We are standing on a wide road to the north, a connection from the City of Lordaeron to the seaside built by fishermen and the farmers living up further north. Later that region was infested by murlocs, such dreadful creatures, fish on legs with terrible apparel. They are pretty dangerous even. They have teeth sharp as razors, a good sight and most worrying of them all: they socialize. So be careful if you attack one of them, probably the whole 'family' will try to ambush you in return. Some of them are even able to cast simple spells.

In the meantime, as I was drifting to my thoughts, Whitemane quietly finished the last bit of the briefing for the warriors.

We follow the road to the north for a while, then we turn off left into the forest to the west. The graveyard of Brill is already visible. We want to take the small opening between it and the town hall to breach the perimeter. Whitemane and probably three or four guards will rush into the house on the other side of the main street of town and get what we are searching for. The rest of us will secure the passageway out of the city, making sure we are able to retreat without any disturbances.

The closer we get the slower and slower we continue our way, careful not to make any sound that could give us away to the enemy.

Everybody is silent as we reach the backside of the town hall. Continuing onwards we sneak to the western side of it. I can just hope nothing will happen or go wrong, that we can do this easily without anybody having to die.

At the corner of the building Whitemane briefly stops, pointing at three of the guards just before she heads around it first, the three chosen ones following directly after her. The rest of us stay put. We are the backup and we have to make sure we can retreat safely.

I can't really hold back and take a peek around the corner. Whitemane and the others are already at the street. They hesitate to go on, which makes me wonder what they are seeing.

Suddenly she gives a sign and Whitemane herself as well as the three guards, dash towards the house on the opposite side of the street. As they have made about half of the way to the building, I hear a dull sound very close.

I spin around quickly. One of our men is lying in black grass with a dagger dug deep into in his back. What on earth? Blood is pouring out from the open wound. For a second we all stare at the body in shock, even the hardened warriors.

"An ambush!" I hear Whitemane yelling from the other side of the building. I take another hasty look around the corner finding one of the guards fighting with an undead. Another one is lying on the ground with the creature sitting on top of him lifting its weapon, ready to plunge it into the back of the warrior. Whitemane barely manages to cast smite on the creature knocking it off before I would have been too late, sending it flying some meters. No need to keep it quiet any longer.

"I will get the book! Just keep those damn monsters off of my back! Then retreat immediately!" She yells at all of us.

As soon as the words left her mouth she starts rushing towards the building in question, one of the wretched creature already tailing her. The third warrior she took with her tackles the undead from the side, taking it off its course.

By now another of the men standing right next to me has a knife in his back. He gargles on blood and falls to the ground right to my side. I press myself to the wall in shock, slowly sliding down onto my knees.  
One of our men in the front of the building screams out in agony, giving away how another one of the creatures had been successful.

The five remaining guards behind the building with me are looking around hectically. No sign of an undead monster anywhere close by to be found

For a moment I think I can hear a faint voice uttering something. It sounded distantly like 'fools'. I can only pray to the light that this was merely a byproduct of my imagination.

Then all of a sudden another three undead come leaping out of the shadows of the trees around us. They are far more agile than the ghouls of the Scourge could ever become. How can this be? One of them carries two swords and easily holds two of our warriors at bay on his own. A second one even has a shield, and is blocking most of the attacks from the remaining fighters.

But where is the third? Only a moment ago there were three of them!

The guard right in front of me looks down upon me, checking if everything is still alright. Just in this moment the third undead appears behind him. I try to warn him, but it's already too late. The creature slits his throat instantly, a spray of blood covering everything in front of him, including parts of my robe and face. The undead is grinning, foul teeth showing in is lipless mouth as the expression on me distorts in horror and disgust. The other two are still keeping back the rest of our warriors with ease.

"_What are you doing here, frail little worm?" _The voice is crooked, it is hard to understand, but he definitely speaks in our language, though the dialect seems off. _"This isn't the right place for you to be in... and you sure don't look like a healer to me..." _That thing has the same glowing eyes as the one I saw earlier this night within the dungeon of the monastery.

I barely manage to utter in fear. I've seen three people die right before my eyes and I couldn't do a single thing about it!

Desperate I try to get away by slowly crawling sideways until I reach the corner of the building, the undead following behind me with light steps.

My mind is a mess! I can't think a clear thought. What should I do? Why did Whitemane take me here? Why me? Those questions are the only things that come up in my mind, leaving me without anything that would actually help.

Out of the corner of my eye I can already see the weapon of the undead, a short sword resting firmly in his grip. Not fully clear to me why I turn onto my back, staring at my follower.

Dammit! I want to live!

Fear is everything I have in my heart right now. I want to live, but I'm overwhelmed by doubt.

"Just kill him! You have the intention to! Use your fear!" A well-known female voice yells from somewhere not too far off behind me.

I have too much doubt in myself. I utter it too quietly. "D-d-die. Just die."

"Just do it, idiot! We both know you can! If you want to survive, it has to die!"

I want to live. And she is not close enough to help me yet. The others are barely standing a chance against the two other undead by themselves. The one with the short sword is standing above of me. Closing in. Raising the sword. Only seconds left in this world.

"DO IT NOW!" She yells again.

I just don't want to die today.

The creature has to...

I don't want to harm anybody, but... I have no choice.

"D...DIE!" I say it out loudly, but I'm not able to scream anything at the creature.

At first everything feels warm inside of me. Then everything drops and turns cold. I scream in pain, my eyes closed. Everything hurts, every little thing of my body.

Am I dying?

Didn't I make it in time?

How could I...?

Then from one moment to the next the pain is completely vanished.

I hear metal falling to the ground next to me, maybe inches away.

And as I slowly open my eyes again, a short sword is lying in the grass to my right. The creature is still standing over me, but the glow in its eyes is fading rapidly. It finally loses its balance and reels backwards. With a damped sound it falls to the ground without any further movement.

"Smite!"

The undead with the two swords is plunged away by the cast hitting it from behind and off guard.

Whitemane and one surviving warrior of the crusade have just arrived. Barely in time I guess...

"Pain!" Is the second thing she cries out after arriving just in the nick of time. Quickly I am pulled to my feet by one of the warriors who is still left. "We have to get out immediately! Prepare yourselves that they will follow us!" The undead with the shield winces in pain.

As we get going I come to wonder how I'm not injured at all, leaving me with nothing more but assumptions to take on where the pain came from for now.

The seven of us fall into running as we enter the forest north of Brill. "Stay together! If somebody is lost now, he will probably fall to the undead!"

We reach the road to the north coast fast. Carefully we look around. No-one to be seen here, therefore we head onwards to the small passage way. All of us only have minor injuries, in contrast to the ones lost.

We have already reached the forest in front of the hill of the Scarlet Monastery.

"Don't slow down, we are only safe once we manage to reach the walls of the monastery! Not a single step earlier!"

I try to keep as much distance to the trees around us as possible after having seen how those undead could hide in the shadows, though it proves difficult indeed.

I don't know where we take this energy from, but we speed up our pace even further from the moment on when we are able to see the monastery on the hill.

As we finally reach the way up to our safe haven, we are already greeted by Scarlet Soldiers. "So Narval put up guards out here? For once he did something useful...", Whitemane mutters to herself with a strangely disapproving sound to it.

She slows down the moment as we are past the first guards.

"Go to your quarters now and rest, you all have a day off tomorrow. I will send healers to you as soon as I reach the cathedral." Whitemane announces in front of the monastery.

The warriors stop and salute her. None of them ever spoke a single word. Is this blind obedience or were they just drowsy? On the other hand, I can't complain... they fought well.

This type of authority is another reason I wouldn't want to join the military.

"You can slow down now, Marc..." Whitemane's tone is a bit mocking and I didn't even notice how I was still rushing forward like this. "No need to hurry anymore. The monastery is less than a hundred meters away and we are already in an area overseen by guards. Everything's fine from on out." For the first time since we've left to the dungeons earlier this night she calms down a bit. As advised I also slow down. I can't deny that she is right - we should be out of danger for now.

"Not everything went as it should, but at least I have the book we were seeking. It will be worth the lives lost." She takes a heavy breath tightly clutching onto the book in her arm.

"What...what is it for, if I may ask?" I stutter as I try to catch my breath for the first time this night.

"It's a recipe book full of alchemical formulas. The undead seem to be gathering the resources to try and create another plague. By losing this they should suffer a heavy setback. Hopefully long enough so the Ashbringer will be able to clean the areas here before they can attack us with their new weapons." Her words are filled with a certain tone of relief, though hardly reliable.

I clearly didn't expect this to be something this valuable.

My thoughts are still a bit messed up. I still don't know where the pain came from earlier and how I managed to survive the attack of the undead at all.

"So you were actually capable of killing that thing?" Whitemane asks me.

"I... I don't know." I respond honestly to her question.

"Well..., there was no one near you that time and I had enough trouble getting along myself. So, it must have been you. Call me a liar if I said I wasn't completely unsurprised." She runs through her hair with her fingers. "To be honest, I didn't expect you to be able to do something like that... This was the first time you performed a spell successfully. How was it? Tell me! Did you feel that tingling sensation when the effect on the target kicks in?" The smile on her face looks awkward, a bit gruesome, but still in a happy way.

"Feel... what?" I just ask her straight forward.

"Usually you feel something the first time when you perform shadow magic." She tries to explain.

A tingling sensation she calls it? The only thing I felt was pain.

"I... don't know. I was paralyzed for a moment due to the pain I felt." I answer quietly and carefully.

"Oh, is that so...?" She raises an eyebrow as her words seem to be trailing off.

"What? What's about this pain?" I immediately pick up on it, she knows something! She always knows more than she would tell me.

"Oh, it's nothing silly boy, just don't think about it." Her excuse sounds as if she wants me to keep asking her. Damn it, she wants me to question the things she is saying.

"Come on, tell me!" I try to push it a bit more. I want to know what this is all about.

"I told you, forget about it! It's nothing..., really!" I still can't believe her.

"Tell me! Five men died tonight to recover that book and you told me about it so easily, now you don't want to talk to me about ... THIS?" My words are surprisingly demanding - how unusual for me.

"No, just forget it... I won't tell you a single word!" She is smiling again. I'm sure she is planning something and I wonder what. "I'm glad you did not die tonight..." She changes topic instantly not leaving me the slightest chance to go on questioning her about it. "You performed quite a dangerous spell back there, you know? I've never had any doubt that you could kill that thing, but using the 'Shadow Word: Death' is quite remarkable for a rookie like you."

I'm not sure how to respond for a couple of moments. Shadow Word: Death? What...?

"I... I don't know a spell like that! I..., I never knew any more than you showed me earlier this night..." I stutter, hectically trying to put the sentences together.

"I know, idiot... But that means you are a natural!" Hearing this as an answer feels a bit like running into a brick wall blindfolded. "Your intention to kill was strong enough to finish that thing off. After seeing that, I'm quite positive if you really wanted to, you could perform anything I showed you tonight with ease and on top of that with far more efficiency than I did." Those words are as if she is slapping me right in the face over and over aging. That's not me! I never could do such things.

"Stop making that face! You know that you killed that undead monster back there. You killed the one that murdered three of our men! You're a hero for all that counts..." Her tone is pressing, "You definitely have to learn to have more faith in yourself..." She shakes her head with a frown.

"I..." I want to respond, but just don't know what to say. Meanwhile we reach the entrance to the monastery and I feel glad to reach this place still alive.

"Now, tomorrow or well... today you have a day off. But in the evening I want an answer from you! Whether you want to have class with Isillien, me as a private tutor or study on your own until the old man returns, which should be in roughly two to three weeks."

Did she really just offer me I could study on my own? She was the one who said a person like me needs a teacher?

"Just keep in mind that neither the mad man Isillien, nor the old man Fairbanks can offer you the same amount of things that I can." She winks at me with yet another alluring look.

She might be right on that one. I am sure the High Inquisitor Fairbanks would never try to teach me something as reckless and dangerous as she did. And Issilien? I can hardly trust him anymore after tonight.

Her boots give us away as we enter the main hall of the monastery. The echo is tremendous in here.

As we pass the door to the office of the head of the guards she turns to me. "Wait here for a second."

I nod silently before she heads off into the room.

Did I really kill that thing? I had no help at all, had I? Was I really able to cast such a strong spell all by myself?

It doesn't take too long for Whitemane to return. I only had to wait for two minutes or even less, my sense of time is somewhat screwed up.

"Now we can move on..."

My quarters aren't far anymore. Fatigue is finally catching up with me. I want to sleep, but it still bothers me that she wouldn't tell me what that pain was about. And I can clearly tell that she knows something about it.

We enter the hallway were my room is in too.

Together we walk up to my door, it's the same way for her anyways.

"Rest well, Marc." She says as I open the door.

"You..., you too." I'm not sure what would be an appropriate answer concerning she is still a Inquisitor. Not able to worry too much about it though I enter my room. Whitemane already wants to walk away before I speak up a final time for the day. "Wai...wait." I utter into the night.

"Yeees my dearest?" She turns around, now leaning against the frame of the door, offering a seductive look as her chest bulges out at me.

"Tell me..." Are the only words I could think of.

"You're repeating yourself too much, honey. Don't you think that is too monotone when talking to a girl?" She is trying to get out of the situation by mocking me.

"Just say it..." I plead to her.

"You really want to know, huh? ... Alright..., alright..." She looks to the floor for a short moment, probably thinking of what to say. I already assume she won't tell me the truth. Or at least not all of it.

"To put it as simple as I can: You lost a part of your soul to the shadows today." I raise an eyebrow, probably now staring at her. "Purists would most likely say you were tainted." She makes a short pause before continuing. "But this only proves me right... You are a natural talent with this type of magic." She smiles at me again, blows me a kiss, than turns around and walks off with quick steps.

I wouldn't be able hold her back even if I wanted to, so I slowly close the door, walk over to my bed and basically just collapse onto it.

I didn't expect such an answer. I really did not...

Now my head is overwhelmed by thoughts and questions yet again. Just when I thought I had achieved a bit more clarity, a few things answered, an endless new array of questions arises.

How did it come so far? I wanted to become a priest, skilled in the holy arts, not something like..., like... her!

She was the one who told me I could choose what I want to become. Now it's taken from me just like that!

I don't want to be like this...


	12. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 11

_Chapter 11: _

The last two weeks didn't pass too fast, even though the main part of my days consisted of nothing much else but reading and sleeping.

Though the day right after the field trip late at night, was by far the worst of them all. I slept until the afternoon of that day and don't get me wrong, it was a good dreamless sleep..., yet what came afterwards... Whitemane insisted on an answer from me. An answer for a question I knew I couldn't respond to. I don't know whether this was the right thing to do, but in the end I told her that I would rather study alone until the High Inquisitor returned. In return she said I would be missing out on many things because 'the old man', as she calls him, would not even teach me half of the stuff she had in store for me. And for a change I'm almost certain she's actually only taking about spells.

Nevertheless I kept to my point and wanted to study alone. She did try to persuade me for a while, of course, but she couldn't convince me with her methods. I still wonder what that look on her face meant. She looked disappointed and angry, but also somehow knowing, scheming. I just don't tell, but it clearly worries me, unsettles me even..., especially as she usually does not show a single emotion that could give away her true feelings or point of view.

The next day I went to the library returning all the books about the dragon flights, in return I took as many books about the Holy Light and the holy arts with me as I was allowed. I knew I had to make some progress at least.

On all those walks I took through the grounds of the monastery, I've never met Isillien again. Not once. He used to wander around a lot, basically all the time he could spare. But I came up with my own explanation soon enough, maybe Whitemane sent him back to Hearthglen.

I started reading those books the same day. With no time for pointless distractions I also put aside the one the High Inquisitor gave me right before he left.

I could only wonder when they would return. And this question still keeps bothering even right now. They said something about two to three weeks and if they are still on schedule, they should arrive in Brill today or at least tomorrow. I dearly hope there weren't any complications. Then again... how can I question the Ashbringer? No undead would ever be a match for him. They burn away just by glancing at the sword.

Northdale should have been cleaned from the undead since the midst of last week already. Once I settle down when I grow old, I want nothing more but to live there again... Maybe even in my old house, at least should it be vacant.

But right now there are other things that need my attention more than these frail daydreams. Currently, again I sit on my bed reading, yet my thoughts are driven off again and again. I can't really help it. Though I have to say I learned some new things about healing spells and the holy arts during the last weeks and how it is also called divine magic in some regions. But if I am truly honest to myself..., I already heard almost everything that's in these books from Whitemane in just that one single lesson.

I'm already starting to crave the guiding hand of a teacher... even though she'd be the only in question for this position. I don't know what I should do. I just don't know...

She was right all along. I need a teacher... A guide at least, somebody who points me into the right direction. But I am still too afraid of her, her methods and most of all what may become of me. I have an obligation to fulfill!

But ... on the other hand, do I?

Damn her! The only thing she achieved until now is that I question myself and my beliefs even more than before.

Yet still..., somehow... It felt good being able to cope with the threat. I killed the undead and it was me alone! I'd be lying if I said otherwise.

I was able to do something alone for the first time in my life! And I came to be somewhat proud of me for a change.

Yet I am sure the High Inquisitor would not approve of the methods, neither Whitemane's to push me that far, nor mine giving in to her. And since the first time Whitemane told me that I would not be able to control the holy arts the way I was now, I've started to have more doubt in myself than ever before. It only makes things worse!

DAMN IT! I need to focus!

But I can't! I don't know what to do! I'm more restless than ever.

Is that what she wanted? Making me realize that I'm not able to do the things I want to do? That I'm not able to achieve anything on my own?

I mean... I..., I felt a part of the power, the brute force that ended the existence of that undead, but I..., I'd rather be an honest cleric.

I came here to heal, to help... not to destroy.

I feel helpless and it's exactly what I didn't want to experience. I wanted to grow... to be more than a burden.

But..., no I can't. No! I won't ask Whitemane for help. I will not do the things she wants me to do! I did so long enough..!

It's the call of the bell high up in the tower the cathedral that interrupts my thoughts.

Why striking the bell now? It is in the middle of the afternoon, isn't it?

Something important must have occurred, there's no other explanation.

Maybe the Ashbringer has returned? That would be great news! Northdale and all the other towns and cities free from the undead? I stand up and rush to the door of my room immediately. Outside I see how people are leaving their chamber with a certain hectic to it and make their way over to the cathedral.

I close the door behind me and join the masses on their way. It is a clouded and windy day.

The sound of the bell is menacing, to say the least.

I enter the cathedral with all the others, our expectations growing endlessly. I try to get a seat as close to the altar as possible. It looks as if almost all the guards have been pulled of duty to attend here too. There are far more people inside this room than usually during the morning prayers.

What is going on?

There are whispers coming from everywhere. The crowd seems in an uproar, even if only a silent one. I wonder what they are all talking about. I guess only rumors but, well... everybody is tense... everybody curious.

Then it happens, the door behind the altar slowly opens.

Is it Whitemane that comes out to tell us that the undead in the kingdom of Lordaeron have been successfully annihilated? Or maybe even the Ashbringer himself claiming his victory over the Scourge?

I'm so excited.

A few seconds pass as every quiets down, then I see somebody. Blonde hair with an orange toning, definitely a Mograine, but... this..., this is not the Ashbringer Alexandros. Is this... one of his sons? I've never seen them before.

He carefully walks up to the altar, his eyes directed towards the ground.

He swallows but starts speaking without raising his head shortly afterwards. His voice is shaking.

_Members of the Scarlet Crusade_

_You have gathered here to hear the call of a weeping son and brave warrior._

_Something terrible has happened as we were on our venture to bring relief and salvation upon the kingdom of Lordaeron. _

_The Ashbringer has fallen._

_We - my father the Ashbringer himself, High Inquisitor Fairbanks and myself - were separated from our party within the ruins of Stratholme. _

_We sought to retreat, yet outside of the fallen city an army of undead was awaiting us. _

_My father fought bravely. But there were just far too many for him to stand against._

_High Inquisitor Fairbanks was the first to fall of us three, ambushed by undead from behind. I was unable to save him, to even aid him by any means._

_My father slew many ghouls and other foul creatures on that day. But they were too numerous and he was overwhelmed in the end. Yet he stood his ground long enough so I, his own flesh and blood would be able to survive and retrieve the mighty blade from the undead horde, carrying it to a safe haven._

_I saw how my father fell to the undead monstrosities and heard his voice as he called out for me to escape. _

_It is a miracle I made it here alive. _

_I was pursued by them for a long time, the rattling breath of the dead grazing my neck, the moaning of the ghouls ringing in my ears. It drove me into never stopping for three whole days, not at daytime nor night. After that I took shelter for a few hours in an abandoned farm house within the fields north of Andorhal. _

_My fellow members of the Scarlet Crusade _

_Here I stand in front of you full of grief. Grief because of the loss of my father. Grief because of the loss of the greatest warrior of the Scarlet Crusade. _

_I beg you all to share this grief with me and my little brother Darion, for a legend has died only so few days ago._

He talks slowly and rather quietly. His speech is pervaded by shorter and longer pauses.

I can't believe what I just heard... the Ashbringer has fallen? But wasn't he so strong? No undead could possibly come even near the blade without being burned to mere ashes.

And the High Inquisitor dead too! What should I do now? Be taught by Whitemane?

Again the thoughts in my head turn to complete chaos. My dreams of an undead-free Northdale shattered in an instance. And now I just sit there staring at the altar and Mograine's son standing next to it, his head hanging low.

Void is filling up my mind. It's growing larger by the second.

And amongst this nobody noticed how the doors to the cathedral had opened behind us.

"Share your grief? With whom? YOU?" A cloaked figure has entered, "MURDERER!" He calls out with the voice of an old man, which sounds familiar to me. The young Mograine standing in front looks shocked.

"I saw everything Renault. EVERYTHING! YOUR LIES AND YOUR BETRAYAL! The undead didn't attack you, boy..." The man slowly walks towards the altar. "You were the one who plunged the blade of the Ashbringer through your father's chest in cold blood!"

Whispers quickly start arising from everywhere.

"Why Renault? Why did you do that to your own father!" the man asks, his voice starting to tremble.

Renault takes a step back as the man approaches even further.

"It..., it cannot be. I saw how you fell to the undead, Fairbanks!"

Fairbanks removes the hood of his cloak. His skin is pale, almost as white as the winter's veil upon the lands; blood veins clearly visible in his face.

His eyes seem strangely darker than before.

"Heresy!" Is the first thing Renault Mograine cries out ridden by panic and fear, "Guards... guards! This is not the High Inquisitor Fairbanks! This is a mere puppet of the Scourge! Remember the teachings of my father! He tries to spread the plague amongst us! Contain it immediately!"

Armed warriors immediately come rush towards Fairbanks from both sides the moment the young Mograine closes his mouth again.

The guards grab the cloaked man that seems to be Fairbanks by his arms and drag him out of the cathedral forcefully.

"Renault, YOU TRAITOR!" He yells as he is being removed. "Pray to the light that your brother never finds out, WRETCHED MONSTER!"

The young Mograine stands still and silent next to the altar for a moment longer, the expression on his face showing how indeed shocked he is.

Most people are now looking back at him after the front doors are closed again.

As Renault notices it, he stands up straight again, trying to hold his posture, looking around hectically.

"My..., my fellow members of the Crusade That..., that there was not F-Fairbanks! It was just..., just a mere puppet of the Scourge!" he stutters at first but slowly gets his mind together again.

"Do not be tricked by its appearance! The Holy Light will guide us!"

He ends his sentence abruptly only to turn around and rushing away into the back with a fast pace.

What did just happen? I can't believe what I just saw..., or furthermore, I don't even understand what I did see. What's going on?

People here talk rather seldom, but this time, everybody is starting to whisper. I don't hear what they are saying but I don't really want to know it either. Though what I can tell for sure is that I'm not only one who does not know to do now, or what to make of... this...

But for right first of all I choose to go back to my room trying to think about what this was all about, trying my hardest to understand.

I'm the middle of the crowd as it slowly moves out of the cathedral. It feels as if I'm shoved onwards by a steady flowing stream of people that hectically separate once out of the building.

Still I have to try my best to get out of this mass of people in the hallway where my room is successfully. I give it my best to stop, but I get literally dragged on by the stream. In moments like this I wonder how many people there are in this monastery.

Once I managed to get out of the crowd and hurry into my room, I close the door behind me fast, locking it directly afterwards.

Then it all comes pouring down me again. I take a seat on my bed and fall to the thoughts.

Was that really the High Inquisitor or just an undead puppet controlled by the Scourge to lure us into a trap by spreading its disease, I come to wonder. Or did he, or ... it, actually speak the truth? And shouldn't it be heresy only thinking about this possibility?

I guess many people are thinking the same things as I do just now.

Father, mother ... what would you two do?


	13. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 12

_Chapter 12:_

The last week felt as if it passed in an instant for me. I hardly read anything during that time, what a shame really...

This is all turning into a giant mess. Most of the time since that, day I have been sitting on my bed, doing not much else but thinking. Ever since that moment when the creature that looked just like the High Inquisitor Fairbanks showed up I haven't known anymore if this is the right path to be on. I felt so sure before I got here and now everything is pushed aside like that.

On the other hand, what real possibilities do I have? What do I have to choose from? The Scarlet Crusade is a noble order of paladins, warriors, mages and priests that worship the Holy Light to its full extend, isn't it? Shouldn't it be like that?

Yet many have left the crusade during this last week, that guy at the counter in the morning handing out breakfast, Charles Worth or whatever his name was and most noticeable, Captain Theran taking along most of her personal little guard. Not to mention the high amount of rookies that were expected but never showed up to begin with. Most of them people I saw everyday although my connection to them was brief or based on some strange feeling of hatred towards each other.

But all in all the number of members has decreased considerably as I can see every the mornings when getting breakfast and going to the morning prayers. I would guess the number of members now is about as half as high as it was before. And since the death of the Ashbringer, his older son Renault has been Champion of the Crusade and in charge of the military forces based here. He might have some of the charisma of his father, but he clearly does not know how to use it.

Above that I'm still without a teacher. Actually I want to study on my own, but I currently lack the concentration to be able to read at all right now. Every time I open a book from the ones I have lying around here, everything in my head starts whirling around, as if the letters of the book started shaking and scrambling. So all I can do is take long walks around the grounds of the monastery, trying to calm myself down, trying to find some peace of mind. Yet it appears I am without success. I don't truly want to go to Whitemane and ask her to teach me. There are parts of me who are drawn in by her presence yet the things she would try to show me are not the things I want to learn, at least I like to think of it that way.

Just yesterday I found out that Isillien is on his way back to Hearthglen at the moment. Whitemane is teaching the apprentices now personally again and who else would there be to take that position? I just hope for their sakes that she really does that 'in a normal fashion' just as she said to me that evening and those try-outs with me were only an exception.

On the other hand none of them has ever been nice to me, nor has tried to help me with whatsoever. I barely hold myself back not to finish this thought. It's not right and I know it, I never asked anything of any of them either.

Aimlessly I look around in my room. Three books are resting spread out on my bed, all of them opened on different pages, but I'm not able to read on in any of them. Four more are waiting for me to continue from the top of my table. The sunlight shines in through my window for a change. Usually clouds are keeping a tight grip on these lands, though in the evening this is actually a very bright room on days like this. I take a look out of the window. The sun is slowly approaching the horizon preparing us all for sunset, the light flooding the northern beaches of Tirisfal a last time for today. The forests on the other hand are already as dark as after nightfall.

A knocking on the door breaks up the scene.

"I'll be there in a moment..." I call out instantly.

"Hurry it up! I bring an important message for you." The voice sounds familiar though not too much, nothing like a friend would. It's probably just a guard that usually has a shift or two in this part of the monastery.

I open the door and just as expected - only a guard.

"The High Inquisitor wants to see you, Marc Fipps. She made it sound urgent. You are to report to her office immediately." He clearly states that I should not tally around.

"Alright, I'll be on my way within a minute." I try to take some of the pressure out of the situation and it seems I manage to do so for once. The guard nods and turns around walking away back over to his usual position.

High Inquisitor he said, so they finally found a new one? Wait a second... HER office and 'she'? Oh no, please, they didn't...

I change to my apprentice robes and leave my room with the door unlocked. My mind jumped at other things right away.

It takes me about five minutes to reach the cathedral all in all. One of the guards is so friendly to open the door for me. I quickly thank him as I walk past.

It is all silent in here this evening. Inside the cathedral there are no guards at all. They probably don't need, as most people around here should be capable of handling problems on their own. Still it looks strange to me.

Walking through the giant main room of the cathedral, I take my time but I don't stop to look. I'm not sure if it's the right way to put but I think I've grown out of that stage. At least I hope so. With right turn into the hallway I'm almost at the office of the High Inquisitor.

I think I know who will be expecting me there, although I rather wouldn't.

For a moment I stop in front of the door quietly raising my hand to knock. It's only held back by my own hesitation.

"Come right in Marc." I hear her voice loud and clear just before my hand even touched the door. It's as bad as I had expected it. I shake my head and look to the floor not really able to prepare myself for what would await me beyond the borders of this door. And still I'm wondering what she wants to tell me, as we haven't spoken at all for the past three weeks. I didn't seek her out, neither did she me.

I open the door and enter the room reluctantly.

Whitemane greets me with a wide smile of her dark red lips. She is wearing her usual tight uniform.

"Please close the door behind you, Marc." I would have done it anyway, but I do as she says. "Have a seat, honey." She already starts talking like that again. There is no pause to her act. "So you surely should wonder why I summoned you here today..."

I quietly nod in response.

"Well, first of all, as you can see I have been promoted." She stretches out her arms as if she wanted me to hug her. I on the other hand just look at her in my bewilderment.

"What? No congratulations? Oh you stupid boy..., you sure don't know how to make friends, do you?" Her reaction confuses me only to the more.

"I...I'm..." I start stuttering again.

"Awww, cut it out, silly boy. I'm just fooling around with you, you should have gotten used to that a while ago..." She winks at me with the usual seductive look in her eyes. Sooner or later that woman will drive me crazy if she goes on like that. "But well, there are a few things I wanted to talk to you about. Due to the recent..., well tragic events we suffered a heavy setback all in all." The look in her eyes puts a certain pressure on me all of a sudden. "A lot of people have left the Crusade, as you surely have noticed. Your little girlfriend there..., what was her name? Ah! Theran, right? She was a captain as well... Anyways she quit the crusade too, but you probably knew that as the first one of us all."

"What... what are you saying?" I start panicking like a little boy right as she mentions the word girlfriend.

"Oh my, did she envy you. She really genuinely hated you for what you are." Whitemane adds with a faint laughter.

"And how can somebody envy... me?" I ask quietly. An honest question to be fair, I truly couldn't imagine what she would respond to that.

"You were the trash-piece son of a local hero, you were friends with Taelan Fordring and lived on his behalf in Hearthglen for about a year, you were the private student of the former High Inquisitor Fairbanks and myself and you were picked up by an escort field trip especially sent for you and ONLY you. THAT, as I may say so, is quite a lot to envy a person around here." Again she smiles at me with this strange almost deranged look. "And you not being able to cast a single spell and therefore being useless in her eyes, nothing more than a dead weight to carry, can quite easily stir up hatred towards you. Especially when somebody had to fight for everything one's whole life long, without ever being presented something just like she had to..." Whitemane just shrugs and carries on, "On the other hand side this also shows how short-sighted 'Captain' Theran actually was. She failed miserable to look beyond the apparel. Just try not to think about this too much anymore."

She says that like it's so easy to do...

"Now it's been three weeks, Marc." She is tapping with her fingers on her desk. "You still don't want me as a teacher for you, I assume. Right?" I don't know how to answer to that. She is right, but yet again not. I can't tell her that I don't know. And a truthful answer isn't as simple as yes or no.

"You still are so uneasy with others around, oh my." Her voice sounds like a mixture of pity and nagging. "So that's that I suppose... All I wanted to tell you is that the city of Tyr's Hand has finally joined the Scarlet Crusade. Within this city there are several churches and a big cathedral. We are seriously considering to move the religious center of the Crusade there." She is looking for eye contact.

"The important thing for you is, due to the fact that YOU apparently don't want ME as your teacher, you will be transferred with the first scoop of apprentices to Tyr's Hand in about a month. So you should still have about enough time to change your mind and tell me, 'Sally, Sally I still want to be your student. I'm so sorry. Please keep me here.'" Her tone is mocking, yet incredibly cold. "Because you definitely need a teacher who shows you how the world goes round. If you understand what I mean..., little worm..."

I nod silently. Transferred to Tyr's Hand? I've never been there before, but rumors have it to be one of the safest cities remaining out there. At least it's heavily fortified, even better than Hearthglen.

"The High Lord Abbendis will surely take care of you once you've settled there. I'm certain they'll find you someone who will show you the way to become a 'righteous' cleric just as you wished for.", something is strange about the way she says that. "But please keep in mind... If you tell me you'd rather stay here by my side, we could have so much more fun together... All in all, that is the most important thing I wanted to tell you today. You can go now if you wish, or do you have any further questions for me?" She knows I would have, but she won't answer me any of them and neither would I even think of asking. The most intimidating fact is that she probably knows that too.

"No, I don't..." I stand up quietly and make my way back to the door.

"Suit yourself... And oh, I forgot about one thing..." She now also gets up, coming towards me. Stopping right in front of me her lips form a malicious smile as she starts drawing a circle on my chest with one of her fingertips. "That one book written by your mother... You know? The one Fairbanks gave you before he left. Keep it. I'm rather sure he won't have any further use for it, let alone want it back..."

Her smile starts eating its way through to the back of my head as her eyes close. I'm standing still in front of the door not truly realizing what had just happened and yet I trying to cope with whatever it was that she just said to me. She reaches past my paralyzed body and opens the door, putting one hand flat on my chest and gently starts pushing me out of the room.

"Nighty night, and pleasant dreams honey. It's a shame you can't stay any longer..." She waves goodbye with one hand and closes the door on me as soon as I'm out in hall.

Hearing the door fall into its lock, I snap out of my trance for a moment. It's about long enough for me to realize that I should get back to my own room. Taking a step backwards, I turn into the direction of the altar. My head has turned completely empty. I'm not thinking about anything right now.

Just as if my body is moving on its own, I walk to the altar and stop dead in my track right in front of it. It is made of pure white marble, only a few stray black seems are staining the pristine appeal. I turn around facing the entrance of the cathedral. I imagine how it would feel standing here, up in front of all the clerics, paladins and warriors holding a speech. I imagine how it would be if I was like my father. Yet as these images turn more and more redundant I push them aside instantly.

I'm sure Whitemane said the things about my mother so incidentally on purpose! Maybe it's some sort of revenge for me rejecting her as a teacher. Or maybe it's only another of her cruel games she likes to play of cat and mouse.

No use thinking about it here I walk away from the altar. The door of the cathedral hardly opens as I try to push it out of my way on my own. I haven't been in there for too long it seems as the sun barely moved on its way on the horizon. The guards also seem a bit surprised that I am already leaving again.

They wish me a good night. I can't be bothered with responding right now.

I wonder if I can sleep at all tonight.

Everything around me turned dull since she pushed me out of the room; the voices of the guards, the breeze on my face, the sight of the cathedral grounds.

Slowly I approach my quarters. As if I wasn't confused enough already, she comes up to me like that and drops this huge bomb on me. My hands shacking I open the door and enter the room. The real challenge is awaiting me somewhere within these walls.

Carefully I look around - the book I'm searching for is lying among all the others currently out of sight.

Tyrienna? Is that your real name, or was it Sarah Fipps? Tell me, mother. I want to know.

I open up the book and look at the second page.

_'To my precious son and righteous husband - I love you. - Tyrienna '. _

I read this on the day I got the book from Fairbanks and did not notice at in the slightest. I only thought of how pointless I believe these acknowledgements to be. And now all I can do is read it over and over again, trying to remember things of my mother. It is hard to comprehend that this person that I have never heard of before is supposed to be this close to me. Simply the fact that this might be her real name and the Sarah Fipps that was supposed to be my mom, that woman that my father loved was only a role, an illusion created by her remains to be something so deeply unnerving that I just can't fully grasp it.

I'm happy to hold something in my hands she had left behind for me.

Yet again I feel shattered.

I read the line one final time then I close the book and start clinching on to it.

I want to never give it away ever again and only moments later I want to burn it to ashes. It feels like lies. It all feels like all of a sudden. I can't even tell what was real and was just a creation of her mind.

Damn it! Damn this book, but most of all damn that woman, Whitemane! I have to stop thinking like this! I have to calm down again! This is exactly what she wants me to do, to overthink it...

One month remains until my departure to Tyr's Hand. I don't know if I should be glad to get out of Whitemane's reach so easily or be sad to leave this area once again. On the other hand..., Northdale would be closer than ever before. So there should be a chance that we will clean it of the undead sooner or later by our own means. But what am I thinking? I'm not even there yet... and why is she letting go of me this easily? That woman has to have something planned for me...

No matter how I try to turn it around I just plainly don't know what to think at the moment, though I quickly start trying to talk me into taking all of this positively after a short while.

Additionally to all of this, due to this moving around again, I won't be able to settle internally again.

I can't take it! I hold my head with both my hands. I want to start screaming so badly.

That woman, all she wants is to make me even more restless than I already was and take advantage of it.

That treacherous bitch... I won't give in to her! I won't let this happen!

There is still one month left and I can't imagine that she will not let go of me that easily. I just can't.

I have to focus.


	14. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 13

_Chapter 13:_

This is now the fourth day of rain in a row.

Yet I can see through my window that it is already clearing up in the far west. If we're lucky, maybe in only a few hours Tirisfal will be free from clouds for a change. Fortunately it is still early in the morning so there still is plenty of time till our departure so the winds can do their work.

The last month was quiet, by far too quiet actually. I have not heard from Whitemane, nor seen her since that one treacherous evening where she told me about the secrets of the book. And most of the people who I've had contact with since then, maybe the only people were guards.

I have been here in the Scarlet Monastery for barely two months now, yet I am already packing up for leaving again. And by all means the time I spent here was not easy at all. All the trouble I had to go through... all of it only to be discarded, seemingly at random, from the person who I might despise, but thinks of me as prodigy for whatever fields of magic and the Crusade in general. I never understood how she let go of me that easily. But it can only one thing – that she's up to something. Whitemane gave up far too easily...

Anyways..., ever since it has been reinforced by troops of the Scarlet Crusade, the city of Tyr's Hand has become a stronghold deep within the plague-ridden lands. The numbers of members from the Crusade within the city walls is rising with each day, securing our own foothold as well as the city itself. It has turned again into the prosperous port it was once before only during the course of the last month. And frankly I am quite happy to be able to go there, to get away from Whitemane's clutches. Her influence should still be able to reach over there, but I highly doubt it'll have the same strength of effect.

Especially after they told me how Tyr's Hand would become the new religious center of the Crusade. They'll clearly have their own ideas of suitable teaching methods. It's another reason for me to be happy to go there. There should be no place on this continent where I could become a better cleric than in that city.

They also already informed me that High Lord Abbendis had already arranged everything so that class can start immediately once we have arrived there. Seems I'm not the only one going. And of course I'm not - the whole group I'm travelling with will consist of about ten fully trained soldiers, two fully trained clerics and round about fifteen apprentices.

One of the guards mentioned that a small number of hired mercenaries would come with us for extra protection, just to be on the safe side of things. After all we have to pass the ruins of Andorhal with this rather large group of people as well as greater parts of the western and eastern plaguelands. This will take some time and we can't go by horse. We would attract far too much attention from the rotting inhabitants of the former city and besides... the Scarlet Crusade could surely not supply enough for all of us. Those resources are needed elsewhere at the moment.

With or without horses, if we travel fast, which we are not going to be because we are by far too many, we'll need maybe two days to reach the city walls of Tyr's Hand.

And even though I still have my trouble in believing in it myself from time to time, I finally managed to make peace with myself concerning my mother, despite it taking me quite some time and I ignoring all the unanswered questions I still have. But for now I settled on taking the book with me and read through it once we reach the city. Can't tell, but I have the feeling I might find a few more things within the lines of that text that were meant for me to be discovered once the time would turn right.

Yet no matter what, I still have to gather most my belongings right now. They are only few, but I never intended to take everything with me for this journey. Most of them being mainly spare robes, speaking in other words items nice to have but far from mandatory.

As I pick up the book Corren gave me I feel ashamed that I still haven't looked into it. It's a feeling that overcomes me almost everything I even only look at it. But still, having it close by gives me faith so I can hold on to my dream.

I also started wearing the necklace Keira gave me the day they departed from Hearthglen. Those two items give me hope. They strengthen my spirit though they are hardly anything but small trinkets without much to them except for idealistic worth.

I often think about the two, remembering the time we spent together in Hearthglen, the place where we first met each other.

But right now all I can do is hope both of them are well. I pray for them to the Holy Light. If one can call the things I do praying. I can't hide the smile due to this one stray notion of thought that just overcame me.

Wrapping up the two books I want to take with me in one of my robes and put them into the leather bag one of the guards gave me. Afterwards I decide to let the rest be just as it is and step over to my window, looking out into the gloomy sky. This could be the last time I can enjoy this view for quite a while, I should savior the moment... Parts of the darkened sky are clearing up already although at the present moment they are still rather far away.

Perfect circumstances for a rainbow...

I can hear the bell of the cathedral loud and clear. It's time for the morning prayers, my last ones inside these walls. Quickly I head over to the cathedral right away. As every morning the people gather quietly inside. Renault Mograine is standing in front of us next to the altar preaching something about worshipping the Holy Light and not giving in to hidden temptation.

I don't really listen to him if I am truly honest. He may be the son of the Ashbringer, but his charisma does not come near as close to the one of his father. He also often fumbles for words, as if he does not know what to say. It's he feels uncomfortable up there in front if you ask me, just the same as I would feel.

Sometimes you even have a sort of feeling that you can tell how he would not vouch for the things he says. He is not very similar to his father on those accounts. And I'm sure how he would fair in battle. He might have the blade, but whether he can wield it I don't dare to judge.

Once he is done I'm glad that the preaching came to an end.

Everybody around me stays as quiet as usually upon leaving the cathedral. I take my sweet time having a last gander at the architecture, the windows of frosted glass and the paintings on the walls. This building is remarkable, but I hurry out after realizing how I could bump into Whitemane within these halls. And by all means that would be the last thing that I wanted or needed right now. But I guess I know the drill by now. She would surely try to play her tricks on me one final time. Although I honestly have to say, I wonder what she is up to at the moment. She didn't make a move for quite a long time now. I can only stress that I'm certain that she is planning something big.

The courtyard is surprisingly empty for this time of the day. It's me and a couple of guards that are on their usual shift. But now sure what the other apprentices that are coming with us to Tyr's Hand are doing right now but I for my part don't intend to return to my room until the departure of the troop. I figured I'd head back when I have to get my belongings.

With the spare time on my hands I take another long walk around the grounds of the monastery. One of the guards told me that they would ring the bell once when the mercenaries arrive and twice when the group will be leaving. So everybody in the monastery will notice and everybody will have enough time to gather in the main hall, or at least send out their prayers for the departing.

As I walk over the soft lawn of the monastery, I try to recall everything that had happened here once again. I still don't fully understand why there was this frenzy about me, but well. Once I'm out of here, Whitemane won't be able to seize her grip around me again and I'll be able to stay away from people like Captain Theran. At least that's what I dearly hope for.

The wet earth underneath my feet makes noises with every step I take. The rain might have stopped a good while ago, yet everything's still far too moist for my liking. It has been a rather cold summer so far, but maybe this will change up after midsummer. This year's spring on the other hand was quite warm, so chances are it'll change soon enough. Not that it would matter in any form.

I start looking for a canopied bench around here where I could sit down for a few minutes, hoping for it to be dry enough. Luckily for me, I find one at the open space near the armory.

Erasing Whitemane from my thoughts won't come easy. I already tried that during the last week but she just always keeps coming back when I think of certain events.

More ironically, if I think about it, I'm actually a bit sad that Captain Theran left the Crusade. She was a beautiful woman, only her character she showed towards me was kind of disturbing. But I guess she just simply did not understand me, how I felt and what I wanted. She must have thought that I'm enjoying this whole situation, considering the very few things she knew about me. I try picturing her in my mind once again pushing aside the few remaining hateful thoughts I came up with towards her. For a second I wonder what her first name is, I never knew.

But I quickly come to the point that I decide I shouldn't think about this for too much longer so I get up and head onwards to the armory, maybe today I can get into the Hall of Champions for a change.

Oh my, I almost forgot how long the armory actually is. It feels like ages getting to the other end. Once I arrive at the sacred door I ask the guards in front of it whether I could enter today or not. They let me in, but remind me that if Champion Herod wants to start his training session, I ought to leave. I nod in response. This had been made clear to me enough times already.

I enter the large circular room. Stairs to my left and right are leading down to a wide open space. All around the room stone statues are standing tall and proud, eleven of them in total. All those great men and women became heroes for what they did, lived for or what they died for.

Barean Westwind, lost off the Frozen Coast.

Invar One-Arm, last seen on the shores of Northrend.

Valea Twinblades, lost deep in the eastern plaguelands.

All of them strong personalities and great fighters for the Scarlet Crusade that stood their ground. I take some time and just stand there gazing at the statues with wide open eyes. It feels great looking at them. I don't know why but it somehow calms me down, gives me a feeling of safety and that the Crusade can overcome any enemy. It fuels my desire to stand in line with these great people.

As I turn around I have already lost my sense of time completely. I'm not entirely sure what overcame me while I was standing here. Finally leaving the room I thank the guards for letting me inside, then I try to get back to the main hall.

Just now I hear them striking the bell. It is this late already? I run back to my room without any detour fetching the bag I had packed earlier. Yet it takes me quite some time to get to my quarters because of the damn long armory. As I reach my room I don't really have the time to check again whether I have everything or if something is missing.

Blindly grabbing the bag, I make my way to the main hall. We are ought to assemble there, they told me.

As I reach the main hall, about two thirds of the group it already there. I'm glad to see that I'm not the last one missing and calm down a bit, catching my breath. I'd probably need that stamina for later today. Looking around I notice the two clerics are still missing and most of the other apprentices. The warriors are already complete and two of the mercenaries are here with us, the rest of them probably waiting outside.

Something is strange about the armor of one of them. It is light grey and bears a silver emblem. I'm not what that symbol should represent but it looks somewhat familiar. Both of the mercenaries bear a two-handed axe on their back. Just seeing these mighty weapons is somewhat frightening. After a few more minutes most of the rest of the group has gathered and one of the warriors gives the order to strike the bell again. The guard heads off towards the cathedral immediately. I suppose it will take about five to six minutes for him to get there.

Meanwhile the rest of the troop will wait here. Only after we hear the bell, we will leave the main building, no matter who is still missing, and assemble in front of the monastery for instructions from the group's leaders.

Two more people arrive before we hear the bell another two times, so I guess everybody made it still on time.

The crowd starts moving out of the building once the signal is given. I'm right in the middle of this stream of people, just as always. I get pushed along with the others, leaving me no chance of slowing down unnecessarily.

As we leave the monastery, the sky has cleared up even further. I'll try to think of it as a good sign.

There are six more mercenaries waiting here, two of them on horseback. One of them is wearing a suit of armor similar to the guy who was assigned to waiting with us inside. The man has long blonde hair and is a lot taller than I am. Contrary to his fellows he has a mace on his back with a different emblem engraved on it.

Wait a minute... that... that can't be.

Could it really...?

"Corren?" I ask a bit too loud in my disbelief.

He turns around, his eyes showing at least the same amount of bewilderment as mine, "Marc!" I try rushing towards him as good as I could the midst of the little crowd.

"How good to see you." He calls out as he embraces me for a short moment then takes me by my shoulders. "I wouldn't have dreamed to imagining you to be on this trip too." He states with joyous tone.

"Neither did I... neither did I..." My voice on the other hand is turning strangely quiet. Well that certainly is a surprise. I don't really know what to say. It's not that long since we have seen each other for the last time if you think about it, yet it feels like ages have passed.

"How's Keira?" I ask him straight forward.

"Honestly, Marc..." He sounds concerned, "I don't know." He lets his head drop. "Our group split up as we went through the Alterac Mountains. She went to the ruins of Dalaran. I also can only hope she is doing alright..." I wouldn't have expected that this question would hit him that hard. But he raises his head again and forces a smile. "But I got the feeling that she is fine. There's nothing she'd not manage. We both know her well enough..."

I nod and try to smile back at him. He might be right on that part but it's something really usual for him to say. But in all honesty I kind of already surprised me that he knew nothing about what has become of her.

"Attention everybody..." A loud voice calls out.

"We can talk later on, Marc. I'm sure we will have plenty of time. Count on that..." Corren quickly leans in closer to me, whispering into my ear.

The noise of all the people around us relentlessly keeps on even after the guard having said that everyone should quiet down and listen.

"I said... ATTENTION EVERYBODY!" The man suddenly shouts out as loud as he possibly can without dragging the voice out too much. The talking stops immediately and everybody turns their attention to him. He is maybe about as tall as I am with short brown hair. You can see the end of a scar beginning only centimeters below his throat.

"My name is Lieutenant Sam Bermoth." He wears a red toned armor and above that a tabard of the Scarlet Crusade.

"I am the one in charge of this group and I am the only one. The first rule is simple. And every one of you is ought to comply! The first rule is plainly that my word and my word only is the one to be followed. I give the orders and you execute them without delay or tallying around!" His tone is strict and his voice strong. "Now for the pleasantries: the trained part of our group consists of ten of our warriors and two clerics. The rest are fifteen cleric apprentices. LISTEN! If anything should happen, if we should be engaged in combat for whatsoever reason, keep behind our fully trained and skilled men. This will save your life, trust me on that. None of you is ready for fully fledged eye-for-an-eye combat." He makes a short pause, giving even the slowest minds to catch up. "As an extra security measure, eight of the finest mercenaries from the eastern kingdoms will be accompanying us on our trip to the city of Tyr's Hand. Their leader is Raydon Ha..." He points to the man on the horse close behind him. Raydon though quickly interferes and raises his hand as a sign not to keep on talking any further.

"Please, just call me Ray. That will do." Ray has a full beard and long black hair. He is rather muscular, yet he appears swift and agile for me even though this should actually be hard to tell, more so impossible while he is only sitting on that horse.

"If you have any questions about this trip or if you have any needs concerning our travelling, you can contact him as well as me. But make sure not to bother any of us two with irrelevant crap of yours." Bermoth continues as the tone of his voice grows harsher. This is feeling like in one of the boot camps of the militia that father told me about.

"For today our destination will be the Thondroril. You all should know the river connecting eastern and western plaguelands. We won't march to Hearthglen, as it would be an unnecessary detour on our trip. Time is of the essence and we can't allow too many hold-ups." Bermoth shortly pauses, "We will set up camp at the river. There will be no opportunity to rest any earlier because of the wild beasts and the undead within the vicinity of Andorhal. The possible enemies will therefore be most likely remarkably ferocious and of great numbers. If you value your life you should handle any possible contact - with or without combat - with utmost care!" I know it is his duty to tell us such things but I somehow feel treated like an idiot by that guy telling me that these things are dangerous. I can hardly imagine how anybody of us standing here does not know any of this. It's the usual drill after all.

"If you get wounded, search the attention of one of our clerics immediately!" And there he goes again.

"Now, we want to reach the Thondroril before nightfall! So get moving! Four of the mercenaries in front, followed up by five of our warriors. Apprentices and clerics into the middle of the group, the rest of the men watch our backs."

Corren is one of the four mercenaries up in front which makes it hard for me to talk to him for now. I guess that will have to wait until we rest them. We will definitely need a few hours to get to the river talking very optimistically. Because of the great number of people this will all take only that much longer. And we also need to be careful not to attract the attention of the undead inhabitants of Andorhal or the fields and farms around the city, just as Bermoth mentioned. Although I doubt that we can avoid that at all. And that these creatures don't sense any fear makes it even worse, for they will attack us even if they are clearly outnumbered and nonetheless one bite of one of the ghouls can spread the disease of undeath. A chill runs down my spine just from thinking about the fact.

With strong steps we leave the hillside of the monastery behind us and enter the forest. Just as always I try to stay in the middle of the crowd of apprentices. And how usual for members of the Scarlet Crusade they all don't talk too much, at least I figured this to be a general trait of the Crusade. But it seems the only people talking at all are the four mercenaries in our back. I guess they've known each other for some time now and are as close to friends as possible for such a profession.

I catch a glimpse of the sun shining through the tree-tops of the forest, yet it is dark as during the midst night time down here. This country suffered just about as much as the plaguelands themselves did.

We walk through the forest for about half an hour and the borders is only drawing closer. It shouldn't be that far away everything considered. How the woods already start lightening up, presenting the gloomy sky of the western plaguelands ahead of us.

I did not expect that a group this big would be able to travel this fast and as my assumptions are getting shattered with every step we take, we'll maybe even really be able to make it to the river until sundown.

Usually during night time it is a lot more dangerous to travel the plaguelands as not only the undead are, well more active when it is dark, but also the wolves start hunting. Actually you can often see wolves running through the scarcer parts of the woods at daytime, but they rarely attack anything but a critter without the shelter of darkness around them.

Every time I walk along this road I recall memories from my childhood. I often also think about that dream that I have regularly. The first few times I had it I was terrified, later it became more like something I was watching, rather than being in it myself. From time to time there are a few differences in the dream, yet nothing was ever like what had happened in reality. It's hardly anything but a farce of the truth. But occasionally I still wake up, drenched in sweat. However I did not have this dream that often anymore since I came to the Crusade and actually I hardly dreamed anything at all.

On its way to Andorhal the road we are following winds through a small valley created by the hills left and right slightly off to the side.

Quickly we pass through it, in fear of an ambush set up by the more intelligent undead or even just a couple of plagued bears in dire search for food and ease from their ongoing torment. From here on you can now already see the town hall of Andorhal, its clock tower rising high up into the air from in between all the other buildings surrounding it. Strangely enough that's not one of the structures lying in ruins now.

With every step we take the road leads us closer to the city. The moaning of the ghouls grows louder with every minute, making not only my heart restless. I am rather sure that they already spotted us some minutes ago. But something is holding them back. Everybody in the group is alarmed, senses are heightened.

The head of the mercenaries, Ray makes signs that tell us to be as quiet as possible yet also keep on moving. Getting through this area is quickly is imperative...

We don't see a single ghoul - we only hear them and that is exactly what's really disturbing about the situation. We don't know where it could come from, but all the moaning is sometimes accompanied by a strange dark rumbling.

It's not long before we reach the road crossing to Andorhal, the point where we are nearest to the city's ruins. Someone or something is in that city holding the undead back, gathering them there. I feel it, I... just know it somehow.

The road leads north-east from here on out, further and further away from the ruins. It's a certain relief not to be that close to the city anymore. It felt like a cold grasp reaching out for us. The breath of impending death grazing our necks, maybe only inches, seconds away.

I don't want to have to go there ever again.

I notice how Corren often takes a quick look towards me ever since we've first entered the plaguelands. He is still really concerned about me being well, right as I remember him. As I catch him turning around I just smile at him. He still cares about me like a big brother. Really nothing has changed during the past months. Can't say that's solely for the positive unfortunately.

The rest of our venture continued to go as smooth as before. Sunset is now drawing nearer and we are actually almost at the bridge connecting the eastern and the western part of the former kingdom of Lordaeron.

Two of the mercenaries started arguing at some point in time about the origin of the strange fog and the color of the sky in these areas. A bit macabre concerning the background but it's somehow fun to hear all those different stories and possible explanations. Although I am certain I will forget most of them already until tomorrow. One of them even said that the undead somehow evaporate into the air creating this strange colorful sky. I faintly laughed as I heard that coming up in the discussion behind me. Some of the other apprentices gave me a strange look for my quiet outbreak in the middle of the western plaguelands, but obviously they did not listen to the conversation going on right behind us. Probably they are thinking of their studies or maybe they are even constantly praying to the Holy Light. It's hard to tell what Whitemane taught to them.

It all went by so quickly. I can even hear the river flowing down the hills in front of us now. Clearly it isn't far anymore. I have to admit I am dying to get some rest as we didn't stop a single time. On the other hand this is the reason for us being so fast. Though if I'm truly honest..., I am too tired to be really grateful about this, maybe tomorrow evening when we have reached Tyr's Hand I will be able to fully appreciate what the mercenaries and the lieutenant did during the course these two days.

Finally, Ray gives the signal to stop for today. "We will set up camp here. The river is behind the small hill over there and the bridge, well gents, right in front of us."

Five of the apprentices and two of the warriors are send out to collect wood for a fireplace. The rest of our military team is helping three of the mercenaries to build up a few plain tents consisting of nothing much more than a hand full of sticks and old sheets.

Nightfall comes earlier upon us than expected. But the seven people that collected branches and other woods for the fire did a good job. We should have enough to keep it burning throughout the whole night.

Finally now everybody comes to a rest and Corren is off duty guarding the camp, so I can take my time to talk to him.

He happily takes a seat next to me right at the fire.

"I am really, really glad that you are alright, Marc." I smile at him for saying that, although I don't exactly know for myself if I am alright at all. I try to change the topic to something different as soon as possible.

I'll just ask him out of the blue. "Corren?" I start off with a simple question.

"What's on your mind, Marc?" He responds.

"You always wanted to be a part of the order of the Silver Hand. And I see you wearing this silver armor. What in the name of the Holy Light are you doing as a mercenary?" This was one of the first things that crept up into my mind as we were walking through the woods of Tirisfal. I really bugged me for most of our trip.

"Well, I wanted to become a member of the Silver Hand... that is true. And this is also the armor of the knights of the Silver Hand. It was presented to me by a former member. I don't want to name him, he now lives in private. He deserves his rest. He saw far too many battles during his time. But sadly, I had to experience that there aren't as many people that want to reform the order like I want to, as I thought at first. Me and my friend Stephan are probably the only ones. I met him when I was searching for the remainders of the order." He looks to the ground thinking for a second. "But now, we are on our way to the eastern plaguelands searching for a new organization called the Argent Dawn. They are supposed to have their headquarters there somewhere. And this field trip of yours was the perfect opportunity to get into the eastern areas without any of the greater dangers that travelling alone brings along and earn a few coins of gold as we go along." He forces a smile.

So his 'dream' also doesn't really go according to his plans.

"What about you, Marc?" He stares off into the fire. "How are things going with the Crusade. Why are you travelling to Tyr's Hand?"

I take my time and tell him everything about the Ashbringer and his fall. Plus I give him the reasons for me being on this trip. I leave out most of the part about Whitemane, I'm sure it would only agitate him.

Then we both fall silent for a moment or two, probably both thinking about Keira and wishing that at least she got what she desired so much as both our hopes slowly crumble with the dreams they once built.

Corren suddenly gets to his feet and starts heading away from the fireplace.

"Now Marc, you need to rest, tomorrow we will have to undergo a straining march through the hillside of the plaguelands! We cannot follow the road, because it would lead us directly through Corin's Crossing." His voice is gentle, but pressing. Something's off about it.

"But we have so much to talk about...?" I don't really know what's up with him right now, but something's wrong.

"I said rest, Marc. You need it! You are completely exhausted from today. Believe me, I can tell." He does not look into my eyes as he says these words. And before I could add anything else or respond at all he walks off to the mercenary guarding the horses and talks to him for a second, right after that they switch places.

I don't know what's going on inside of him, whether I said something wrong or not. But I can only imagine that he tries to play his role to the best of his abilities. He always was the one protecting others... and now? Now Keira's out of our reach, both of us not knowing how or even where she is. And as our dreams are falling apart before our very eyes we are also starting to lose hope for hers.

In the end I can only assume that he tries to desperately find answers to his own sorrow without having to involve me.

I stare into the fire for a few more minutes before I decide that I should rest just as he said. There was a lot of truth in his words after all...

Nothing left to do but to look for an open space in one of the tents. It's too dark, I can't see a thing. But after stumbling to one of the bigger tents for the apprentices I notice an open space and squeeze myself in between the people already lying here.


	15. Scarlet Dawn Chapter 14

_Chapter 14:_

It is a warm sunny afternoon.

The sky is clear, but in the distance you can see it already darkening due to the rain to come.

The city gates of the capital city are standing wide open. A hooded figure and two of his guards pass through the long courtyard to the throne room. Flower petals are lying everywhere announcing the arrival of a hero. It's an old tradition in these lands.

Everybody inside is quietly awaiting the man.

Not long afterwards the heavy doors are viciously pushed open. The three men enter the circular room. The hooded figure in the lead walks straight to the middle of it. He draws his sword and kneels down, his hands resting on the hilt. The king rises from his throne opening his arms ready to welcome the arrival and embrace the man.

"Ah, my son..." The voice of the king is gentle and kind hearted. He is a just ruler and hero, celebrated by his people.

The man in the middle of the room stands up and finally removes the hood. His hair has grown long and turned white. His eyes show an unnatural cold as a grim smile comes to his lips.

He steps towards the throne in a fast pace, his two guards take a few steps towards the guards on the outer ring of the room.

Everything blacks out.

From one second to the other I can't see anything anymore.

"What are you doing, my son?" The voice of the king is shaking with uncertain fear.

"Succeeding you!" The man replies swiftly just before I hear how a sword cuts through flesh.

Something metallic is falling onto the floor.

I hear screams. In the beginning it's just one, the voice of my father.

But soon the number grows, two people screaming, five, then ten, then twenty, hundreds and in the end... thousands.

Everything turns dead and cold.

I wake up still hearing the screaming straight from out of my dream in the back of my head.

Almost everybody is awake, a part of the tents seem to have already been taken down again.

I'd better get up and leave the tent. I may not be drenched in sweat, but I surely slept uneasily. One of our warriors from the Crusade hands me a cup filled with water and a piece of bread. One of the mercenaries standing nearby complains about it is not being anything at all, but I'll take it. Better than an empty stomach I guess.

Though only after a few bites I don't feel like eating any more. So I offer my bread to one of the other people standing around me and only drink the water they gave me.

I sit down on the trunk of a tree lying around between the camp and the river. It takes a while until everybody is finally ready. I am anxious to leave here and get going, I feel restless and unsafe in this place.

My mind starts dragging me back to the dream I had. I've never had this one before. I am not even entirely sure what happened there. But it's no use, so I might as well try to stop thinking about it.

Corren has been sitting on the other side of camp with the other mercenaries for the whole morning now. I don't know what's up with him. From one moment to the other he changed towards me. I want to ask him what is going on inside him, but I already know that his answer will be a fake smile and that he tells me to keep with the group for some reason. I will wait until we'll reach Tyr's Hand in the evening. Confronting him would yield no form of success any earlier.

Meanwhile everything has been packed up again and the group is ready to continue the march through the tormented landside that was once Lordaeron.

Ray quickly arranges the group as he thinks it will be most appropriate for the upcoming ways we'll have to take.

"Attention everybody!" The lieutenant shouts out. "Today we have a difficult journey awaiting us. We will be able to follow the road only until we pass the ruins of Darrowshire. Afterwards we will turn south leaving the roads behind us as we head straight into the hills. For today we have to go directly through the wilderness of the eastern plaguelands. This will be dangerous, but it will be the only way we can take to get to Tyr's Hand. And believe me, this is the easier path to follow! Plainly following the road would lead us directly through Corin's Crossing. The town is infested with undead minions of the Scourge, trying to slip through it or even fighting our way through it would be similar to suicide!" He speaks louder with every sentence.

"Keep this in mind and stay within the group. The armed forces on our side will be watching over every single one of you. But don't take it too light hearted! Letting your guards down is still unacceptable." He makes a brief pause, his eyes wandering over every member of the group. "Now, get moving everybody, we still have lots of ground to cover!"

As we cross the bridge over the Thondroril, the sky's color shifts to a dark and gloomy brown. It is shocking how much nature has suffered in these parts of the former kingdom of Lordaeron. The giant fungi can be seen almost everywhere. Some of the trees are crippled, now showing structures that remind of screaming or distortedly laughing faces.

We can follow the road for about half the way we have to go through this area.

If you look closely into the woods, you can see all kinds of plague hounds and giant bats roaming around between the trees just waiting for one of us to drop behind. These creatures are intelligent enough not to attack a group with the size of ours, but they'd be vicious enough to rip one of us to shreds should the opportunity arise even with the rest of us still around it.

We are moving along fast just like yesterday, yet the road is straight and almost completely even leaving an impression that we are hardly even moving.

Not before we pass the crossing to Darrowshire. It is said there are no ghouls or minions of the Scourge residing there, but the ghosts of the villagers that fell in the fight against the invading hordes of undead warriors of the Lich King. How much believe in this story or whether you only take it as a rumor is up to everybody on their own. I can't really honestly. Ghosts is hard to believe... but then again? We are walking in a land governed by the undead.

After the long march along the roadside we finally see the first signs pointing out that Corin's Crossing lies not far ahead of us. Ray immediately signalizes us to stop and turns to the group. "Four of my men, and six of your soldiers in front, followed by the clerics and apprentices; the rest of the men secure our backs, the riders being the last of the troop. And be quiet!" He points out the direction we are heading into and the people follow his orders without delay. I guess we will be going south-east from now on.

The earth around here is tough, not as soft as it usually is when walking through the woods.

This place is dreadful. The way everything has been altered... Once light forest full of life, it is now nothing but death. The plague hounds lie low awaiting a moment when they could seize their prey, anybody from our ranks would do. A chance that they will not get though...

But that's not the only danger of this path we have chosen. Corin's Crossing still isn't too far away and we will have to venture past the lake behind it on rather close quarters. As we draw nearer to the lake in the south of the town I spot movement in the water.

Water elementals!

So the rumors are true! Nature is already making its stand against the foul hordes of the Scourge!

Ray signalizes us that we should keep our distance and go as far away from them as we can as quickly as possible. I don't really understand why, they are friendly after all, aren't they?

One of the apprentices breaks out of the line. He is about as old as I am and has long black hair. "Those are no enemies! Don't be fooled!" The young man shouts back at us as he hurries towards the elementals. One of the warriors wants to rush after him, but is held back by two of the mercenaries. "It's too late for your friend..." Ray says this loud enough for everybody of us to hear. "Pray that he does not have to suffer a lot." His voice is stern.

Meanwhile the young man reaches an elemental in question. The watery face of the creature is showing no expression whatsoever. Not immediately greeted by hostility he tries to touch it.

The moment his hand reaches the elemental, the whole creature turns into a stream of water flying through the air back into the lake, swallowing the apprentice as a whole and dragging him with it, as if he is being pulled down into a vortex.

We stare at the water in shock till the last air bubbles burst as they reach the surface.

So, I guess the rumors were wrong after all.

Not being able to speak for a while after having witnessed this, we move on slowly and with caution. As planned we try to stay as close to the hillside as possible so that the elementals won't take any further notice of us. Losing one person due to such foolishness is worse enough. Who could have known...?

What happened to nature here? What illness did the Scourge unleash upon them or were they driven into madness by the terrible transformation of the landscape around their habitat?

Leaving the lake behind us, the walls of Tyr's Hand are now clearly visible in front of us, the flags swaying high up in the air.

We are almost there..., finally! I guess we should be thankful that we managed to travel this fast despite the size of the group.

Then I notice it. How everything is completely silent around us.

Ray gives the signal to stop. What is going on?

"Be careful... it is quiet..., too quiet..." He whispers idly.

We are standing in a dip, surrounded by small hills, the mountain chain delimitating the southern border of the eastern plaguelands to our right. From down these small slops none of us is able to see over any of even the smaller hills surrounding us.

It's only a split of a second later that a ghoul jumps up from behind the hillside in front of us and takes Ray down.

We all take a few steps to the side and the group expands in panic. Two more of the undead creatures leap at us with deranged cries of hunger and agony.

"What on earth...?" One of the warriors cries out.

"AMBUSH! Prepare for battle!" The lieutenant shouts as he is still lying on the ground, trying to fend off the ghoul on top of him. But just after these words have left his throat more and more of the undead are now streaming over the hills - ghouls, skeletons and undead soldiers still wearing a full set of armor.

A hooded figure in black robes stands above us on an edge of the mountainside.

I turn around, not knowing where I would be safe, not knowing what to do at all.

I feel helpless, useless. I feel lost.

Why always me?

"NECROMANCER! Up on the mountain! Take him out!" Those were the last words of the lieutenant before he his throat was ravaged by a ghoul.

I'm so scared.


	16. Memories of the Twilight Prologue

Memories of the Twilight

_Prologue_

_Pain_

_That is all what is left in his life or being more precise – in his desecrated existence. He clearly is not amongst the living anymore. _

_Agony_

_But he still can feel the pain. He can still suffer. This is his last connection to humanity. His body and his spirit were rendered after he had died. Poor tormented soul _

_Wrath_

_The on-going agony feeds into his rage. Anger dwells within what was once his spirit, not leaving a single clear thought behind. He longs to end this torment._

_Hunger_

_His wrath makes it easier for him to overcome the pain and the agony alike. He can ease the suffering by eating, eating living flesh and drinking warm blood to replenish his own. _

_But if he does not give in to the hunger, the ache grows endlessly within only a few hours. It is an unholy existence, cast out from the light, embraced by the shadows to devour the living. His very being is mocking nature. And his vitals conceded their duties a long time ago, leaving his flesh to rot as he keeps on wandering the surface of the planet. _

_He does not fully know who he was or what he did. Neither is he able to comprehend what has happened to him. Only so few things remain..._

_His personality was easily overthrown by the rage, the pain and the hunger. _

_And now his feelings remain to be numbed by the agony, nothing left to hold on to except for endless suffering. _

_Could there be no way to end all this?_

_What about the voices? He does not hear them anymore, not the gentle and calm voice, nor the furious one driven by same rage and endless wrath that he too feels. Where are they now? Didn't say they'd stay with him forever? Make him their unholy child? Didn't they promise to give him strength, to give him more powerful than ever before? Or did he refuse their offers too often. Did he refuse at all?_

_He can't remember. _

_Only few things are certain for him, one of them being how he is drawn to somewhere. _

_He has been walking continually for days or even weeks. He cannot travel too fast as it proves hard for him to move at all. He is staggering and his limbs, they sometimes stiffen. He does not know where he is going to and neither why. He is just following his instincts, nothing more and nothing less. _

_Other creatures fear him. As he takes his path directly through the woods even the wolves and bears of the plaguelands try to avoid him at all cause, but he? He does not pay any attention to this. He just keeps on walking._

_His eyes are dull and clouded, without the slightest trace of life in them. He is oblivious to his surroundings. His body though, is still in a rather good shape, he did not suffer many wounds and it didn't start falling apart yet. He even still wears the same clothes that he died in. It's a long, severely damaged, crimson robe with the emblem of the Scarlet Crusade on it. Ironic how his own blood mixed into the color he once worshipped even as doubt had fallen upon him._

_With every step he takes, no matter clumsy it may be he comes closer and closer to the place he is drawn to. He does not know why, but he can feel it._

_Is it the hunger? Or maybe the pain he already feels, telling him where to go to?_

_Soon it would turn unbearable again, he needs to eat. _

_The creatures in these forests are too fast for him so he just keeps on walking. But they would satisfy his hunger either, no need to bother with them as time turns ever more precious._

_It will all change at his destination. Something inside of him tells him he would be able to ease his pain._

_The Tirisfal Glades are as dark as usual, the trees not letting a single ray of light to the ground. The wind is appropriately cold, though hardly tangible for a skin without feeling. The full moon is already shining brightly down from the heavens; eternal nighttime._

_Step by step he creeps through the woods. Successfully he avoids the roads, making you wonder whether he might still able to think enough to do this on purpose or not. As he reaches a hill side, a small town is lying in front of him the lights of torches are glowing everywhere. _

_Brill_

_Something tells him that his journey finally has come to an end here. _

_Without too much care he makes his way down the hill, hatred growing in his shattered mind; hatred for the living. You cannot tell if he really feels this emotion or if he even realizes the reasons behind it._

_Might it be envy? Might the reason for his pointless hatred be envy? Envy that those alive could still choose their way of life freely and without bonds? He had died full of regret, regret having been as useless as he was. He could not achieve a single thing he wanted. And even a friend was killed by his own hands._

_The silent hatred he once felt for himself, he now reflects on others. _

_Yet, most of these things have vanished from his mind in their entirety, the memory eradicated. _

_His spirit restless, he wanders further towards the city. _

_The place he wants to go to is somewhere around there. _

_Soon he finds himself standing directly next to the inn. Somebody is talking inside and you can hear footsteps coming from the town hall to his right. The sounds of the living let his body crumble._

_He just stays there for a couple of minutes, swaying back and forth. A wagon is standing between the town hall and the inn offering a frail hiding place. He stops behind it, his instincts in control as the pain grows further. From here he is almost at the street, the first two guards in front of the town hall are already in his view. _

_Blind hatred is again pushed aside by hunger. The things closest to thoughts within in his mind are all screaming at him. Everything that is left in this moment wants him to end the pain he suffers at all cost._

_Nothing is holding him back._

_All of a sudden he leaps from the frail shadow of his hiding place and jumps at the guard standing nearest. Paralyzed by the shock and surprise he makes easy prey. _

_Without a single moment of hesitation he sinks his teeth into the neck of the guard._

_The man is screaming. By now the other people around them have realized what was happening and the other guard charges at this emerging monstrosity, trying desperately to take him down._

_He on the other hand tastes the blood of his victim. The pain diminishes, but not as fast as he had hoped. Something is wrong about his prey. Still sitting on top of it, the other guard tackles him away._

_As he pushed away backwards he sees that the flesh he was feasting upon is just as rotten as his own. _

_It is hard to say if he really is able to comprehend something like this, but a feeling of despair creeps up into his decaying mind. His rendered spirit is in fear of the pain awaiting him if he would not eat. But this rotten flesh would do hardly any good. _

_A pair of bony hands seizes him at his shoulders. His mind immediately exploding in rage, he tries to shake the hands off by all means._

_Another guard jumps into the fray trying to aid his companions. They seem successful as he is now pinned down by two men. His mind consumed by the wrath, he is trying to escape. He writhes like a wild animal being pushed into a corner, an unknown strength gathering in the dead limbs. _

_A third guard appears in his sight, this one holding a sword._

_His mind overflows with rage and fear yet again. He shouts out something incomprehensible, it sounded like a beast roaring at its enemies. _

_The guard takes the sword with both hands and raises it into the air over his head._

_Can this feeling really be despair? Isn't this the moment he always wanted, he always longed for in life as in death, being able to rest in peace? Yet his instincts tell him otherwise. They tell him that he wants to survive; that he needs to survive._

_The sword cuts through the air digging deep into his chest. He does not feel anything, not the cold steel, nor his flesh being ripped apart. _

_All he feels pain._

_The pain from not having been able to eat properly..._

_His existence has been cursed, cursed since the first day of its unholy subsistence. _

_The rage is finally fading. Slowly everything grows blurry around him. His muscles relax, the movements die away. Is this the moment his soul is set free?_

_His eyes close._

_Now he is just resting on the ground, the guard pulls his sword out with one swift act of strength. They feel safe and want to dispose of the body as soon as possible. The injured guard won't suffer from anything more than the sting of the wound._

_Now there he lies in his robes that have been torn to shreds. His body and soul once claimed by the Lich King, he fell to the sword of a Forsaken. Yet one enemy should be about as good as the other, shouldn't it? _

_Slowly the icy grasp around his soul is fading more and more. _

_He is not dying._

_The wound from the sword will surely stay on his chest and try to tell the tale of this day if he lets it._

_His mind comes to ease, even the pain slowly disappears. _

_The freedom he sought will still have to wait._

_It seems as if he is falling asleep... He is able to dream again._


	17. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 1

_Chapter 1: _

FINALLY!

My desires will come to an end today. I will be able to achieve the last of the virtues. In only a few hours I will be more powerful than ever imagined.

I will be able to transcend death!

I will become a god!

Those fools of the Forgotten Shadow... They don't take a chance like this even if it lies right before their eyes? Those idiots just make me laugh!

Compassion?

What nonsense!

They don't know half of the things they are teaching to their followers!

They preach about power and the mastery over death itself. They envision how these are the things that lead you to a new level of existence, whilst equally paying your respect to those powerful enough to challenge you.

They tell you that you have to follow your goals with tenacity, but they also talk about compassion? They have no idea of what they are saying!

But why should I bother with them any longer? I reached the place where it will all end, the Plaguewood in front of Stratholme, only minutes ago on my Dreadsteed.

Its whole body of this beautiful mount is covered with scales glistening in a tone of onyx. It has two large spikes on each of its sides and seven horns adorn the head of this majestic yet demonic creature. Its mane consists completely of fire and from his eyes and nostrils flames emit all the time. Its hooves ablaze, it leaves a trail of embers behind it with every step it takes.

If you are not used to it, my mount may be a fearsome appearance, but it definitely is not the one you should be wary of...

I dismiss my fell steed and make my way over to the teleport by foot.

The last snicker of my horse is ear-piercing as always.

I don't summon any demon to my side. They are of no use to me anymore. I found my ways to take the power that I want from them without depending on their aid. They are so weak..., pathetic creatures clinging to their masters of the mortal realm. Anyhow... soon enough I will be able to dominate all of their armies on a whim.

The robe I'm wearing is of a fiery red with various accents to its appeal. Around the chest it has a violet to purple coloring, as if you are looking directly into a dying flame devouring wood. My shoulder pads resemble the wings of demons or bat-like creatures, maybe a Nathrezim. Together with the gloves they are also matching this same kind of color toning. It is only because of a rather small opening within this regalia along my arms, just between the robe and the glove where my bones are actually visible, that you might see that I'm not amongst the living any longer.

The color of my skin has taken on a wan green, just as well as my hair too.

The light brown sky high above me, I can only think about how long it's been since I was here for the last time. Those giant mushrooms are just too funny. I always have to laugh when I see them emitting their spores into the atmosphere, churning them out relentlessly.

The undead in this area feel my presence. They should be attuned to this kind of pressure after all.

They fear me.

I look around as I walk the last few steps towards the teleport, even the more powerful banshees retreat when I approach. I focus my sight on one of them, might as well have a little fun.

With a short gesture of my hand the banshee goes up in flames shrieking in a high pitched voice as her essence is being devoured by fire. I turn around and keep on walking. The banshee behind me is wincing in agony.

"Worthless underlings..." I speak to myself loudly enough so she would hear it. Without looking back I raise my hand. The fire spell on the banshee explodes, leaving nothing but mere ashes of the undead creature to be claimed by the winds. I somehow expected more from them, leaving me to only hope that these warriors of the Scourge down here are merely the cannon fodder of the army. It would be disappointing to be able to eradicate the whole of Naxxramas on my own.

A grim smile comes onto my face. Yet again, I already feel a powerful entity. He, she or ... it is definitely stronger than I am. He overshadows the rest of them completely, except for one. There is a group of four almost equally strong people, but one of them stands out. With the potential he hides he could smash the other three within seconds. I will assume they are his followers for now. Everything else would make no sense. The only thing I don't quite understand is that it feels like I should know this person. Amongst the rest of Naxxramas' servants there are quite a lot that are somewhat equal to me. Yet if I get what I search for, I will surpass them all with ease.

They will all be my tools so I can reach my goal. I'm sure it will take some time, but it will be worth it. And once when I am strong enough, I can escape this world. Nobody will be able to demand an account from me any longer. I will finally be free from the shackles. I don't care what I have to do, but I will not rest until I'll have reached my goal.

Freedom

That is what I truly desire.

Yet I can only achieve this with power in this..., in our world.

I come to a stop in front of the teleport to the necropolis named Naxxramas.

I look up to the sky. There it is, floating high above the Plaguewood and the ruins of Stratholme. It is an envoy of the end to come. And soon I will be a part of it.

The teleport itself looks like a little pyramid with all four sides missing. I enter the strange little structure and without delay the floor underneath my feet starts glowing in a faint, yet extremely cold blue light. It only takes seconds until I feel being pulled up to somewhere. I close my eyes for the duration and only a second later when I reopen them, I find myself already up in the necropolis. Most of the inhabitants should have surely noticed me at least now. Although I am quite sure that Kel'Thuzad already knew when I would arrive after I had entered the plaguelands.

I take a careful step out of the blue glowing circle into the dark room that seems to be the, well... entrance hall of Naxxramas. I take careful a look around and find nothing much in here except for four gateways leading off into the unknown halls of this place. The one I'm standing in front of is decorated with a lot of skulls. There are three sources of power within it, two users of magic and a third one indefinable. All three of them are quite equal to me.

The second of the gateways is full of spider webs, nothing interesting in there. I can only sense animals and a warlock, though no match for me.

I walk on towards the third gateway. I can already see the abominations from afar. Those giant lumps of undead flesh are quite hard to miss in all honesty. I don't sense anything in there... probably it is filled with undead creations that use no magic, but only their brute strength.

As I reach the gate to the fourth wing I feel a tickling from deep within. I know this feeling only too well. Everybody in there is incredibly powerful. My hands are already starting to shake. I want to know who they are. My whole body begins to tremble even more. I WANT TO KNOW! A pair of gigantic wings appears out of my back. They have a bright yellow color that changes to orange and violet after a few seconds. Sadly it's only an illusion. An image conjured up by the very robes I'm wearing every time it overcomes me - the urge to kill. Around me the light grows fainter, it turns darker because the wings absorb it. I want to see blood, no matter whose! I want to hear them scream in pain!

Stronger than me? HAH!

I want to know who they are so I can kill them with the pleasure they deserve when I finally meet them! I want to see how they suffer. My eyes are widening.

I want to taste their blood!

My bloodlust is abruptly stopped, swallowed up as a whole the moment I hear a strange clicking noise from the other side of the hall. The wings on my back also disappear instantly. The clicking slowly draws nearer. My senses are still numbed due to the six sources of immense power behind me. So I guess I'll have to find out the old fashioned way, who that might be, approaching me so full of such ignorance. Listening closely from which side the clicking is coming from, I also start drawing closer to it on my own. After a few steps I can already spot the reason for the noises. It is hard to miss...

What on earth is this? The creature reminds me of an oversized beetle. Its whole body is covered with some sort of blue plates, maybe it really is chitin. It even has two pairs of wings, although I hardly think they would enable this monstrosity to fly even only a foot. It is about twice as high as I am and it has a rather long body with four thick legs attached to it. Its arms are small and shaped more like claws than anything else. On his head it proudly wears a jagged horn.

It comes to a stop about five feet in front of me.

"Greeeetingz, Warlock." The voice is somewhat similar to the one of a human with a few minor differences in pronunciation. "My Mazter iz awaiting you."

I did not expect that this oversized scarab would be able to talk, maybe this thing isn't just a vile beast after all it occurs to me.

"My Mazter tellz me that you zhould be careful what you think, Warlock." The creature stands still in front of me, but only a split second later one of the sharp claws of it only misses my head by a few inches, slightly grazing my cheek leaving a shallow scratch behind.

That thing is fast, but I suppose it will not be able to take a lot.

"My name iz Anub'Rekhan, I am a nerubian crypt lord. Be aware that I am ztill your enemy if you keep inzulting me." He seems to have a fair understanding of honor at least. Fine by me...

"My apologies, crypt lord, I'm just not used to talk to giant beetles." I bow slightly in return to his greetings. More of a mocking gesture than anything else. "Now then.., take me to your master! I long to see him and I don't like to wait for no reason...!"

I know that I sound agitated and annoyed, after all I still don't think this insect would be able to keep up with me.

Anub'Rekhan or what he called himself emits a strange humming noise for a short moment then he starts walking. "Follow me, Warlock." He goes past me and turns into the quarter I stood in front of last. Immediately my thoughts jump back to something else, how I want to meet that person that overshadows everyone else here. I can't resist and follow the giant insect leading the way.

We enter the first hall of this wing, large and small cages littering every free inch of it towards the sides. Three skeletons are working at a giant black anvil on the right side of the room. The whole thing has another exit in the back, from where you can hear a lot of voices and the sound of weapons striking against wood.

The crypt lord leads me to one of the bigger cages on the far left side of this place.

"My mazter told me that you zhould wait here, until he zummonz you." The nerubian opens the door of the cage and pushes me into it with one swift movement. It was too fast for me to react accordingly. I didn't have the chance to respond to it at all.

"There iz alzo zomething to eaze your luzt for blood for you..." In the right corner of the cage another undead is sitting, his head hanging low. The jaws of the crypt lord flutter for a moment, the sound coming from it reminds me of distorted laughter.

I land on my knees, but get up quickly again, not giving in to the shame of having been caught off guard. That thing really is faster than you would expect. A mistake I won't make a second time. The crypt lord then turns around and makes his way out of the hall.

"I hope that beetle will get what he deserves for this impudence. Throwing me into this cage... Pah!" I mumble to myself. "Insolent bastard! As if a mere cage could hold me back..." I call out but the nerubian shows no further reaction.

The undead in the corner raises his head slightly. "Cursing won't help you in here, friend." The rags the Forsaken is wearing glisten in a light blue, matching his skins blue tan.

"Don't you dare calling me a friend ...! You're nothing more than an ant I would crush underneath me." I hate it when people talk to me as if they knew me.

"My apologies..." The undead replies cold hearted. "Nevertheless now you also lie to the mercy of the Scourge. And that is quite a grim future to have." I just turn away from him. I won't be here for long. I'm sure of that. "And judging by your looks, I can tell you as a fact, I might not know what these cages are made of, but magic won't help us to get out of here." The Forsaken looks to the locked door. "I tried that myself often enough." Yeah right, as if someone as pathetic as him would be able to escape from here. "But if it calms you down I can safely tell you that in these cages they keep only the ones the still 'need' for something. The ones that they look at as worthless are directly taken to the abomination wing as 'raw materials' or by the death knights on the lower floor for training purposes..." The forsaken turns his head to me. "Therefore we should both feel lucky."

I wonder what use the Scourge wants to make of this wretched undead. I sense that he is able to use magic but not pretty well. Is it about knowledge or maybe something completely different?

"I was caught by a group of necromancers when I tried to study the aftermath of the destruction of Stratholme regarding the former inhabitants." Here he goes again, talking, talking, talking... without being asked or given my permission. "In short: I tried to study whether there are ghosts in the city or not, to bring an end to the rumors." He lowers his head again. "Oh my, we haven't even introduced ourselves properly yet. My name is John Chillsbane. They caught me about half a week ago." From the corner of my eye I see how he offers me a fake smile. "Now... may I know who I am talking to?"

I don't know if I should answer at all and actually it's outrageous he didn't hear of me by before.

"I definitely know that you are stronger than the one wearing those robes before you. They are one of a kind in our world, but you surely know that. I knew their former owner. Maybe not too well, but I knew him nonetheless." He turns his head away from me. "But why did you have to kill Blarus Whitrick?"

"Because..." I turn around my voice raised. "...He was a meritless insect, not worthy to wear a robe like this. You said it for yourself... It is one of a kind." I shrug. "So I figured it should be in the hands of someone who is able to make full use of its potential." I lean against the bars of the cage.

"I see..." This is the only response of Chillsbane. His words are emotionless. But after about a minute he looks at me again. "May I know your name now?"

His words sound a bit like mockery in my ears.

"My name? It's a shame you haven't heard of me before... Or is it merely your own ignorance? Ceberus is my name."

"Oh, oh yes. I thought so. I just wanted to reassure myself by hearing it coming from your lips."

"Stop mocking me or I will silence you forever!" It bursts out of me in a fit of rage, two giant wings appearing out of my back. Yet they disappear again as soon as they touch the top of cage. I take a step towards him with open arms ready to cast any spell I could think of.

"If you want to kill me, go on! Do it! Get it over with and end my torment in this cage! You won't feel any satisfaction! I know the likes of you well enough and you want to see your enemies suffer... and you know that I would have to endure far worse things when I have to sit here and wait for the mercy of the Scourge. Go on! Free my wretched spirit!" He yells at me as I stand in front of him hesitating. I know only too well that he is right with the things he is spewing out at me.

"Besides...," Now his words have turned calm again. "...you won't be able to use any magic in here anyways."

"What?" To hear this only feeds my anger.

"I told you, I don't know what this cage is made of, but it suppresses magic, that's for sure..." He shakes his head slightly.

I try to create a ball of flames in my hand, usually it should be about twenty centimeters wide, but it doesn't even manage to reach a single one. Think for a moment, I make up my mind that I should just go for it. Concentrating for a few seconds beforehand, I then put all my effort into it. Normally half of the room should be swallowed by the sphere of fire by now. Yet it seems to be limited to about ten centimeters in total. Whatever this material is, it drains magic and it does so fast. I let the orb disappear with a certain feeling of unbound helplessness to it. But it soon gets pushed aside by the drained out feeling now residing in me. I'm not sure, I really don't know anymore but I guess it's been roughly a year or so since the last time I felt this way.

Again I find myself leaning against the corner of the cage trying to come up with what to do now, yet I already have the distinct feeling that I have no other choice but to wait.


	18. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 2

_Chapter 2: _

The minutes pass and my anger diminishes as I can do nothing but wait for the nerubian to return. Still I am sure that once I am out of here that giant insect is going to get what it rightfully deserves either from its master or me.

It doesn't take long for me to start walking from corner to corner inside the cage not knowing what to do or how I could keep my mind off the situation at hand.

"You look like a wild animal thrown into a cage... You are quite the nervous type, aren't you?" Chillsbane asks me with a cold voice.

"So, what...?" It's my only response I have for him. Most things he says sound like he's making fun of me. And once I'm out of here, after I'll have dealt with the giant beetle first, he will surely be the next on the list.

"You made yourself a name quite fast in the recent year with the way you ... 'act' and the things you do." He seems to be talking more to himself than to me. I guess he noticed by now how I don't pay too much attention to him anymore. "Hrm..., come to think of it. You haven't told me why you are here, actually." He slowly turns his head towards me, his eyes small and the look on them questioning.

"Why is that of any interest to you?" I ask him, the tone of my voice provoking.

"I want to know if the rumors are true..." His response is short, at least it seems precise.

"Rumors? What rumors? They are supposed to speak of me in fear and say my name with respect, not spread any pointless rumors!" I am rightfully shocked.

"'They'? Who are ... 'they'?" Chillsbane asks.

"Well..., the Forsaken, the Cult of the Forgotten Shadow, everybody feeding of the filth that is Undercity." I'm a bit surprised because of this question, but I answer truthfully.

"So you already look at them as your property... alright. But now..., back to topic. The rumor states that you want to turn yourself in to the Scourge willingly. And now sitting here next to you, I wondered whether they might have been speaking the truth."

"So... where did this rumor come from?" I hesitate to answer his question and instead pose another of my own. Whichever person was foolish enough to embark on this forbidden territory will pay for it once the time is due.

"I don't know too much. It was basically all over the Forgotten Shadow. But please, answer my question. Do a dying man this single favor." He offers me a strange smile.

"If that is what you want, miserable old fool..., then I shall tell you this much: they are right." I shrug it off.

"But..., but why are you doing this? You are just taking a few more steps on a road leading straight back to damnation!" He starts shouting at me in disbelief all of a sudden, his frail mind clearly not able to comprehend.

"I long for freedom. That is all I want to achieve. But to reach this goal you should know as one who the Forgotten Shadow, I have to become strong and more powerful than any other. That is the way our world goes round..." I speak truthfully.

"You call this freedom? You are selling your soul to someone who is willing to erase every living creature in Azeroth!" The light in his eyes flickers.

"I am a Forsaken, just like you are. What do I care for the trash with still beating hearts? Besides..., I was able to get out of his grasp once before, so I will be able to do so a second time!"

"That was Sylvanas who freed you from his icy grasp, not you!" His voice grows louder again. He stands up and even dares to approach me.

"Curse you and your Banshee Queen! How do you know that she is able to conduct things like this at all? I never swore an oath to anybody and I surely will not do so in the future. I won't show any gratitude towards her, nor respect. Her false reign is just another form of slavery!"

"Silence yourself at once!" It bursts out of him. The undead clearly seems angry and enraged. "Do you think the Scourge would grant you freedom? If they find out what you want to do, you will be killed on the spot and revived as a ghoul for his mindless hordes. The Lich King is merciless! You, above all, should know that!"

"I will take my chance of achieving freedom, not matter what or who will oppose me or what I'll have to do for it!" I take a step towards him. "I am strong, stronger than you could ever imagine to be... I will be able to do this! I had to sacrifice so much to get to this point and I won't retreat after coming this far!"

"So what? If you join the Scourge the greatest sacrifice still lies before you, the moment when you give in to them!"

I calm down, turning my head away from him.

"You don't know anything... The greatest sacrifice was already made." My voice is slightly shaking, the tone of it testifying my sadness.

He seems surprised because of my reaction to his words, because of the sudden exposure of weakness towards him. Immediately he returns to his corner as well and sits down quietly. A few minutes pass then he speaks up again.

"Tell me... Who were you in your former life?" Chillsbane breaks the silence.

I try to ignore his question at first, but he doesn't give up that easily.

"Go ahead. Tell me." I can imagine how he is smiling behind me, only asking these sorts of things so he could continue to mock me in his own little insanity.

"I won't tell you anything about that time..., you can choke on your words for all I care." The tone of my voice states that this answer is absolute.

"So, I see... you don't want to remember."

I say nothing to his conclusion. It would only give him more reason to investigate.

"If you don't want to talk about that part of your life, then tell me something about your life as an undead." His voice is clearer now and he even sounds happy for some reason. What a weird guy. "Oh sorry, I don't mean the time as a ghoul or so, I couldn't remember that part either, but as a Forsaken."

I still don't know for sure whether I should answer or not.

"Oh come on now, this surely should kill some waiting time. And I can assure you nothing of what you might say will leave this cage. Just start right at the beginning!"

I hesitate, yet I guess it shouldn't matter too much if I told him things about myself. After all... he is second in priority on my list of people to kill at the moment. And unfortunately he is right on one part.

It would definitely kill some time...

'Where am I?'

This was the first clear thought that came up in my head. Everything around me was dark and cold, governed by obscurity. And the last thing I could remember clearly was a place somewhere deep within the eastern plaguelands. I still knew who I am, or who I was at least. Yet everything in between those last few memories and now seemed like a dream..., like a nightmare.

But that wouldn't help me too much right now, so I fully opened my eyes and tried to figure out where I was. I finally stood up from the cold floor. It was completely crafted from stone without any ornamentation to it. Very slowly my eyes adjusted to the darkness that filled the room so eagerly. It seemed I had been lying almost directly in the center of it. Upon taking a step forward I bumped into something that was lying on the floor. I crunched down, trying to have a look at what it was, but my eyes were still not used to the not existing lighting of the room. I stretched my hand out to reach for whatever was lying in the way. The moment I touched bone, my curiosity was stumped, yet something drove me to go on further. And my fingers I went onwards on their own, wanting to know if the rest of the skeleton was still lying there. The next thing I felt was flesh. In that moment I jumped up to my feet again almost screaming out loud. I stumbled a few feet backwards where I instantly bumped into the next body. I was afraid, my frail mind almost failing me yet again. The only thing I could think of was to find a way to get out of there and the sole question: 'Where am I?'

I stood there for a few minutes breathing heavily. I didn't even notice how it had no effect, how it was just another reflex that survived my death.

In the meantime my eyes began adjusting to the darkness more and more. It took long enough... But what I saw in that moments would have been better remained hidden. It was shocking for me to say the least. I found myself surrounded by literally piles of dead bodies. The strange uttering from some of them not making me rest any easier. Luckily I quickly spotted a way out and up to the surface. Little did I know at that time, how I had awoken several feet underground.

It was behind one of the stone piles where I noticed a staircase leading upwards. The faint light shining down from above gave it away for me. I passed the corpses slowly and carefully, desperate not to step onto any of them.

After about twenty steps the staircase took a sudden turn to the left. The same thing occurred two more times before I entered a greater hall. It looked similar to the one I ascended from with the only difference that it was a lot brighter and you could already see where the light was coming from. On the other side of the room there was another staircase, but this time it was clearly leading outside. All around the room where alcoves in the walls some of them filled with a coffin, some not.

It was in this hall when I first had a look down at my body after I had died.

My robes were hanging down in mere rags. The emblem that was formerly ornamenting my chest was completely torn apart, now replaced by a cut in the greyish fabric. At least that's what I thought. It took a while before I'd notice how this was my skin and not just a piece of dirty old cloth.

Eager to get outside I took a few more steps. For the first time I realized how it felt as if I was walking bare footed the whole time, yet again how the floor felt not cold enough. It's a strange thing to care about in such a moment, but your mind can only comprehend so much in such a dire situation. At least these thoughts let me appear human enough to myself.

I decided to lift my robe slightly to take a look out of pure curiosity. I was completely petrified once I saw the reason for me not feeling the cold of the floor. My left foot was almost entirely reduced to bones and the right one also only had a few places left with flesh attached to it. The rest had been completely taken off... maybe even eaten off.

"What in the name of the Holy Light?" I cried out in my desperation.

Then I noticed my arms and hands. Around my elbows there was nothing left but bones and a few muscle strands. On my left arm there even was a piece of flesh still hanging down loosely from my forearm. In horror I touched it. I still don't why but it didn't matter in the end. I didn't feel any pain upon grasping it anyhow.

'What had happened to me?' Those were my exact thoughts. I pressed my eyes closed and tore the piece off my forearm. It didn't even tickle.

Then I continued onwards to touching my face with my bony fingers, or at least what was left of them. But I have to admit... it was a certain relief for me to notice that nothing particular was missing there.

This was the first time I fully realized that I had become one of them. An enemy...

At first I was reluctant to take the stairs out of this crypt. I was too scared of the things that might await me up there. Yet soon I realized that I was only delaying the inevitable, again the slight moans from further below only drove me out quicker.

This second staircase also took a turn after a few steps, just like the one before, but from the room I was standing in you could already see the sunlight shining in through gaps in the walls.

I convinced myself and made my way out of that place rather quickly.

As I reached the outside, I was blinded by the sudden light for a moment or two, before I found myself under the darkened sky of Tirisfal. I recognized immediately.

So..., the sky was dark. The entrance of the crypt basically lay in ruins, a small pile of bones close not far to my right. I was glad to be out of there, but on this small hill I then stood I didn't feel any safer either. A path was winding down the hillside towards a small village. From the point where I stood I could already see the pinnacle of a church reaching up from between the trees around it.

A few more moment passed by as I looked around for a while trying to figure out where exactly I was. I was pretty sure this would be Tirisfal, but you couldn't be certain. Maybe it was somewhere else after all. Then again the sky and the forest around me reminded me too much of those areas.

The hill itself around me was used as a cemetery. I saw graves everywhere, some of them opened, some not, some of them with a tombstone, some without.

Slowly I descend along the pathway. And as I reached the third curve the path made, I spotted someone carefully crossing the graveyard. From afar it seemed as if he was searching something or somebody.

I approached him with care. After a while he started yelling something. I couldn't understand what he was saying, but as soon as he spotted me as well and also came towards me. As he came closer I noticed how about half the flesh from his face was missing entirely. Fear quickly took a hold of me, but he didn't seem to be on the hunt, especially not for me... Something held me back from running away.

We stopped several feet apart from each other.

"Hector!" That was the first thing he yelled directly at me. "Just follow the path and into the church, inside somebody will tell you everything you need to know." Without any further comment he walked on past me. He hadn't even left me a single minute so I could have answered him or posed any kind of question.

I tried to keep him from walking away, but I guess the single "But...?" I uttered wasn't enough. And so I was left behind with only the minimum of information, wondering who that Hector was supposed to be.

But with him already heading off towards the crypt I was without any other options but to follow his words. The decision had been taken away from me, which looking at it now, made it rather easy.

An iron fence was dividing the graveyard from the rest of the village as I came closer. Two guards were standing at its gate, both of them heavily armed. They greeted me instantly and in a surprisingly friendly fashion.

The village itself was also divided by a ridge of wooden spears. The church and two more houses formed the upper part of it, mostly inhabited by undead just like the two guards, the gravedigger or... myself. From the lower part of the city I only heard a constant moaning.

The left guard was the one to talk first. I could see no visible eyes in his skull, yet I supposed he was able to see me. He had strands of greenish-blue hair and two leather bands were tied around his head. I wondered if this was a necessity for him or just a kind of ornament.

"I suppose it best greeting you with 'Good morning', Hector. I am deathguard Oliver, welcome to Deathknell. Just head right into the church and talk to shadow priest Sarvis. He'll tell you basically everything you need to know and answer any kind of question you might have to your current situation. Waking up is always the hardest. Just embrace it, it'll make things easier." His voice had a very deep and soothing tone to it. I nodded and thanked him for his advice. I definitely wouldn't have expected them to be this friendly to me. I had always only seen them as savages. Although I still couldn't get around wondering who this Hector was that they all were talking about.

But I would find soon enough.

As I walked onwards I overheard some of the rest of the conversation between the two guards. That guy named Oliver said something about how astonishing the gravedigger Mordo was, because he always knew the names of everybody coming out of the crypt. In that moment I realized they meant me when saying the name Hector.

But that wasn't my name... I still knew who I had been before becoming this... thing that I was now.

Anyhow I entered the church, even despite my hesitation.

Seven people and a sole imp were inside it, all of them but the demon, undead, three men and four women. Yet the strangest thing was the fact that some of them had this glowing in their eyes and some didn't. Actually I didn't know if they had any eyes at all.

Shadow priest Sarvis or what he was called, greeted me friendly and with open arms just like the guards before. I guess they talked loud enough to me outside, so that he had been able to listen in on the short and rather one-sided conversation we had.

As I drew nearer I saw that his lower jaw was missing completely.

"It is good to see you have awoken, Hector." The moment he spoke the name whispers arose around me. I only heard shreds of what they said but it sounded like 'Mordo must be out of his mind' or something like that. I on the other hand, started mainly questioning how this 'priest' before me was able to speak at all. At first I was only able to look at him in disbelief, adding to the rest of my confusion.

After I had slightly managed to focus again I tried to tell him that this was not my name "But... my name isn't Hector. It's Ma..."

"Don't be silly, of course your name is Hector." He was very quick on interrupting me. "It is normal to suffer from partial amnesia for a while after waking up, so don't worry too much about it."

I came to the conclusion that it was useless to talk back against his words, he wouldn't believe me anyhow.

"You surely must have some questions, Hector. Go ahead! This is the time for them! Ask what you want to hear." His voice was friendly, just like with the guards before. Yet I didn't trust him, I trusted none of them.

I had to think for a moment, I couldn't really decide on what I wanted to know first. So I just let it flow.

"Where am I? How did I get here? And who are you?" It spews out of me after I realized that it wouldn't matter if I asked everything at once or one by one. The confusion from all the things I saw and heard since I woke up in that tomb still persisted.

"You are in Deathknell in the south-west of Tirisfal, young one, although we initially found your body in Brill. You attacked some of our guards as I was told. It appeared you had quite the appetite. Anyhow you were taken down by them, but you deliberately refused to die, therefore you were brought here." He explains before making a short pause, "And we..., well..., we are your new family. We are the Forsaken of Lordaeron, led by the Banshee Queen Sylvanas Windrunner."

Unwillingly I took a step backwards.

Until that point I had still hoped that this would turn out to be merely a nightmare, yet it was far too real for a mere dream, no matter how lucid it might be.

I had become one of the creatures I despised most in my life.

"Welcome back to this world, Hector."


	19. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 3

_Chapter 3: _

"Now Hector..." Sarvis made a gesture towards the other 'people' in the room behind us. "Please, let me ask you a few questions in return." It almost looked as if he was smiling at me in that moment, considering whether you are actually able to smile without a jaw that is.

Typically for me I nodded in response and was awaiting his first question.

"We need to know who you are. So please, tell us... where are you from? If you can already remember..."

I had to think about it for a moment. I really didn't know if I should tell them so easily and decided against it rather easily, remaining without telling them anything about my origin.

"I... I can't recall." I stuttered a bit, not sure whether it would give me away or even enhance the legitimacy.

"No, it's fine Hector. We all know that it is difficult to cope with the situation right after waking up again." He made a suspiciously long pause between his sentences. "Alright then, do you know what you did in your former life? Your profession for example..." His voice remained completely calm, in no way pressing whatsoever. He was trying to show me that I was safe here, so I would come to terms with them as something like a family, as he put it. I didn't know if it might only be a trick, so I acted reluctant. I thought it could be dangerous to tell him too much about myself, especially with my background concerning the Scarlet Crusade.

"Are those robes you're wearing ritual ones?"

I looked down at me and saw the symbol on my chest torn to shreds. It was in that moment that it dawned on me how I was still wearing my old clothing and only the damage done to it kept my identity hidden. For the first time in my life I was glad not to bear it.

Again I took my time to answer

"I..., I was a priest." Knowingly I left out the fact that I was only an apprentice in my former life.

"Terrific!" He seemed really glad to hear about this, "As a priest, please go to my assistant Dueston over there. He is in charge of instructing young clerics and apprentices rising from their sleep here in Deathknell." The high cleric Sarvis pointed with his bony hand to a man wearing a grey and red robe next to the entrance of the church. Come to think of it, it didn't look too different from the one I was wearing. "Just go over and talk to him, he will tell you everything else you need to know."

Not knowing what would happen to me now I turned around and slowly approached the other undead.

Parts of the skin in the face of the cleric were missing, his lips also almost completely rotten away.

He looked at me with this bright yellow glow from his eye sockets, tilting his head slightly towards the side.

The moment I reached him, I was just about to greet him, but he already interrupted me before I could form even only the first word of it in my mouth.

His voice was brighter than that of other Forsaken, somehow strangely inspiring.

"I'm sorry kid, but whatever you did in your former life, you are definitely no priest, cleric or whatsoever... You can't fool me on that part." His words sounded reproachful as if he thought I wanted to trick him into something.

I looked at him in honest shock. Quite frankly stricken silent, I didn't know what to say to him. New whispers arose behind my back from all angles.

"I don't know who you are or what happened to you but you should rather consider talking to Maximillion and Kayla back there that would be suiting yourself better, but I? I can't teach you a single thing. I would if I could." The undead shrugs, "But it just isn't possible."

How on earth did he tell so fast, I was asking myself? The other Forsaken around us overheard what he said of course and were all staring at me now.

I turned around slowly to face the undead in the red and black robe with the staff, just as I was told. The robe looked utterly beautiful with its golden ornaments, even back then I quickly found my fancy for the warlock's regalia.

"Oh my... Oh my. The 'priest' finally shows his true colors." The Forsaken named Maximillion started to talk before I even reached him. His tone was mocking as he held his head raised high.

"I could tell that you were no priest from the moment you entered the room. Now, why does an apprentice warlock try to fool us? What did expect to achieve from playing us for fools?" His voice turned pressing all of a sudden.

And I? I didn't know what to say to all of this, I was no warlock! There was nothing I could respond in honesty. And yet I tried...

"But I..."

"What 'BUT'? Tell me, go on... I won't hurt you, not yet at least..." Something about his words made me shiver and to my surprise it wasn't what he had said.

"I... I can't tell you..." That was the only thing I came up with, actually it was the truth, just as I told you I didn't know.

"Well then... that is at least an answer." The smile appearing on his mouth quickly widens into a broad grim, yet all in all not as if he was about to harm me. This wasn't the face of a madman soon to go on a rampage.

Thinking back, Maximillion was a strange type of person. He easily accepted an 'I don't know', but was growing furious when I tried to tell him that I was once a priest.

"So I assume you are rather inexperienced with the dark arts, am I right?"

I nodded swiftly.

"It would be good if you were able to form a shadow bolt, but I doubt you are capable of that at the moment. Well, well. I can see your strong affliction to the shadows. I feel it quite clearly... You have already performed a shadow spell in your 'former' life, haven't you? You already paid the necessary dues?"

I nodded again, still unsure about my words.

"Don't always nod at me as if I'm unworthy to hear your voice. TALK TO ME, you insolent worm!" he shouted at me, his words filled with sudden rage. He made me take a step backwards without even noticing.

"Ye-yes, my- my apologies, I..., I've already performed this, this magic in..., in my li-life once." I was shaking. Something about the warlock was utterly terrifying.

"Fine then, I guess you should have no problem with learning spells from me..." Now his voice was again perfectly calm, even somewhat gentle, but only moments ago he had such an outburst of rage.

"I have decided!" He spoke these words loud and clear for everybody in the church to hear.

"What... what did you decide?" I was still too baffled about the whole situation.

"Idiot! I have decided to teach you the basics every warlock should know. I see how you are bound to the shadow, but something about this connection seems severed. I'm not sure why, but refreshing the link should be sufficient enough I'd say. And in the end, should you survive, afterwards I will send you to Undercity. There you will learn the rest that you need to know. If you do well, I might even consider recommending you personally. And Kaal Soulreaper always liked the students I recommended to him."

From that point on it was clear to me... he definitely talked like a mad man. And who was Kaal Soulreaper in the first place? At that point in time I wasn't able to imagine how soon I would be allowed to meet a grand warlock as him.

"Now listen carefully. I will make it brief and only say it once." He made a gesture with his staff almost hitting me on the head. I barely avoided it, being too focused on listening for what he wanted to tell me again.

"A strong and proficient warlock will be able to control three core aspects of magic. First of all and the most important by far - the shadows themselves of which I can tell you have already made contact with. You will find this basically to be your trademark for a start. You will be taught curses and other harmful spells to torture your enemy proficiently as you drain away their life's essence. And for the more destructive purposes, relying on some more brute force from time to time, we most commonly are utilizing the shadow bolt, which basically is a jet of darkest magic if you want the easy description." He makes a short pause so could catch up with the things he was saying. "The second type is fire. It is rather easy to control, for it is just as wicked and chaotic as shadows are, though will have to take some time to master it without setting yourself ablaze. Concerning this particularly fun type of magic you will be instructed with everything you need so that you will be able to set your opponent on fire in every particular way you could think of. And the third thing..." He turned around and pointed at the little imp that made squealing sounds behind us, "... will be summoning. Kayla will teach you how to summon your first pet-demon. If you grow stronger and more potent as a warlock Kaal will show you how to summon other creatures from the twisted nether. There are four demons every sophisticated warlock is able to summon, but that still is a long way away for you." He turned back at me with a sleazy smile. "Now... are you willing to learn?"

This question inherited all the fears I've ever had in my life before I died. I stood there for quite a while, completely silent. What should I do? All the questions from my former life that I died with arose out from their graves one more time just as I did. But then I realized it..., how there was no turning back either way. I had lost everything and no matter what I would do, I'd never get it back.

Then again, this would prove to be my chance to make a new start. Life or the 'Un-life' in this case granted me a new chance. The only thing I had seemed to have kept was my potential for magic. Everything else had been taken away.

Quickly it started to grow on me. In my former life, every important choice I had to make was taken from me and somebody else decided what I should do, where I should go. Now I had the chance to make my own choices for a change...

"Are you actually going to answer my question, or do you plan on standing there 'til tomorrow?" The impatient words of Maximillion snapped me out of my thoughts. And not a moment too soon

"I.., I'm sorry." I lowered my head for a moment. But as I pulled it back up, I looked right into his eyes. "Yes, I want to learn from you..."

"You don't sound too confident..., but I'm fine with that." What an arrogant bastard he was. "It's not about the words, but about what you are able to do, right? But well..., I am not going to fool you. You know how shadow magic works so you should be able to conduct your first shadow bolt on your own. Kayla will teach you how to summon an imp if you bring her the skulls of three skeletons from the lower part of the village. She needs them for the summoning ritual. It shouldn't be too difficult so off you go..."

"But..." I tried to say something before I was sent away, but he interrupted me a soon as possible.

"No 'but'-s, just go out there and don't come back without the skulls! Oh and talk to Elreth, she wants something from you too, telling from the way she looks over to you ever since you entered the room." After he had spoken these words he instantly turned around to Kayla and the imp standing behind him. I stood there for a moment in bewilderment still waiting for some more instruction on what to do. But they never followed. I soon realized that the Forsaken wouldn't turn back around again so I took the few steps to the right and faced the undead woman called Elreth. She did not hesitate at all to start talking to me.

"Hello, Hector." Her voice sounded friendly, even a bit pleading as she went on talking. "That is a very strong name." She didn't ask me right away to do things for her, instead she wanted to have some small talk before hand, yet I wasn't so easy with that and hardly answered her at all. I tried to smile at her, it was the least I could do if I'm no good with good words, isn't it? Though on the other hand, I didn't even know whether I was able to smile properly anymore. Above that I started to sense that I would have to live with the name Hector, at least for the moment.

"I may only be the novice of shadow priest Sarvis, yet I am concerned about the safety of Deathknell. So I beg you, when you go out there to collect skulls, bring rest to as many of the mindless ones in the lower part of the town as possible."

"I will do my best." Those remained to be my only words for her.

"I am sorry to bother you even more. But for the sake of my friend Marla I have another thing to ask of you." I didn't quite know what to think about all this asking, but I fell in line. "Her husband died because of the plague the Scourge brought here. He killed her with his own hands. Her last wish as a Forsaken was that somebody would bring him to rest and bury him next to her on the graveyard of this church. He wanders around a little camp south of the village with three of his former friends. You will most likely find him there."

I nodded to show her that I agreed with what she had asked of me to do. I said my farewell to her and left the building. A certain inner reluctance arose towards fulfilling everything that they wanted me to do.

Not really knowing what to do I started making my way towards the ridge that divided the village.

There was a somewhat steep slope in midst of Deathknell, dividing the part filled with mindless minions of the Scourge from the rest. Thus it being significantly lower than the rest making the ridge that much more effective.

I stood at side of this hill looking downwards for a few moments. The remains of the village were infested with zombies, ghouls and skeletons. Yet they didn't seem too aggressive otherwise they would surely have been attacking Deathknell without further hesitation. They clearly outnumbered the Forsaken up here. It would have been nothing short of a massacre.

A single one of the zombies stood quite close to me. I didn't want to head out too far just yet, so if something happened or went wrong the guards of the village could still intervene. At least for the time when I tried to kill the first one I wanted to feel safe.

I approached the creature slowly. All of a sudden it turned around on me. I instantly made a step backwards. It had noticed me!

But... nothing... it just stood there doing nothing. Should I attack, I asked myself. I guessed I would have to try at least once. Maybe the teaching of Whitemane had its use after all. At least I knew how this kind of magic worked and the spell... he called the spell shadow bolt. So I thought this spell would probably do exactly what the name said.

Staying at a fair distance to the monster, I focused on what I wanted to do, that being a bolt of fell magic striking down the zombie. I focused on killing it, laying it to rest. I focused on the creature. Then I thrust my hands towards it as they started to emit a dark violet glow.

The jet of dark magic flew directly towards its target, seemingly unable to miss its destination at any chance.

It hit the undead body piercing through the right side of its chest. The right arm of the creature was blasted off due to the initial impact, scattering splatters of blood near the zombie. The creature fell backwards and lay there without any further movement.

For a moment I just stood there not knowing what to think after I saw what I had done. I was capable of doing such things?

Then I noticed it straight out of nothing it overcame me.

No pain.

The spell didn't inflict any pain on me... So, I must have been able to cast it right. Still astonished by the effect of this shadow bolt I decided I should find another target to try it on. I had to find out whether or not I was able to reproduce it.

The undead in the area seemed to be rather passive to me. As it turned out I was able to pass by at least three of them until I reached the forge. Most of them did nothing more than to look or moan at me from a distance. So I headed straight for the forge having seen from the upper part of the village that skeletons seemed to be gathering near this building. Therefore I thought it would be a good idea to go there as quickly as possible.

One of them was standing besides the building next to a small dip, it almost seemed as if it had been waiting for me to come and collect its head. Without much hesitation I decided to cast another shadow bolt at the creature. The jet of dark energy quickly flew towards the creature and hit it successfully. The skeleton fell into its parts right upon impact. Unluckily for me, I managed to hit in the head, sending its skull flying off into the woods. Dammit..., me and my bad fortune.

Maybe I was too focused on getting the skull so that the shadow bolt was driven to the head as a target.

Magic wouldn't be easy to handle, I had already feared as much but by then I started to actually understand what that meant...

If I think back about from the point at which I am now, I have to say it was ridiculously easy for me to control the shadows. I didn't notice that at that time, I was too focused on my situation at hand back then. Though I think it was sometime later... Yes, when I first was told that about one third of all warlock apprentices get killed while trying to perform their first shadow bolt, because the cast goes wrong or the shadows demand their price, that I started getting an idea of what this potential I inherited meant for me. What it was doing for me...

Being able to conduct such a powerful spell this easily made it quite trivial for me to achieve the items that undead woman wanted from me.

As I had all three of them I had already decided by then not kill too many of the zombies around me, as the guards of Deathknell should be able to handle that on their own if they really wanted to. Instead focusing on the other I had been given I left the village towards the south, following the road in search for this encampment Elreth mentioned. The forest around me grew denser, letting almost no light to the ground as the road just continued to go slightly downwards.

I didn't have to search for too long, as it was directly at the next turn of the road.

From the distance I could already see four undead roaming the area.

Damn that woman, I could have screamed once I got there. She didn't tell me which one was Marla's husband...

Knowing the strength of the spells I could conjure I drew closer towards them. They seemed to be rather passive as well all in all. A ghoul from Andorhal would have probably started to attack me the moment I left Deathknell behind.

I took my chances and guessed that they were just as mindless and none aggressive as the zombies up in the village. And I was proven right on that assumption as it seemed I didn't stress my luck too far, for the four undead creatures didn't show any sign of aggressiveness towards me even when I stood right beside them.

So there I was in between them wondering how I could find out who of them was the one I was searching for. But then chance took me by its hand and presented me a faint noise. It sounded strange but as I listened carefully I understood... One of them was saying something!

The uttering came from my right, so I turned towards that direction. A skinny zombie was standing a bit off the side. I got closer to it.

"Maaarlaaaa..." That was his word, nothing more and nothing less. He kept repeating it over and over again. So I quickly assumed I found myself the right one right there.

I took the creature out with a shadow bolt to the chest like I would any other. The jet of dark magic passed right through the body and hit the tree behind him, digging deep into the sturdy wood before eventually evaporating.

I immediately turned around ready to fend off any of the other three, but they just stood there without even the smallest reaction.

"Some friends you got there buddy..." I mumbled to myself whilst dragging the dead body behind me back towards the city. He was far too heavy to carry for me.

I passed through the zombies of the lower part of Deathknell easily, just as I did before, not even bothering about fighting against any of them.

After also having passed the ridge of spears to the upper part I looked around searching for the graveyard that woman had mentioned. I only spotted a single gravestone between the church and the ridge and decided to go there, whether or this would be the right place I should do I said to myself. And it turned out that this 'graveyard' that Elreth-woman had been talking about were only little more than three graves, two of them without a headstone. The other one still open, I threw the undead body into the hole assuming that this should be the grave of this heavy bastard.

Falling for my own curiosity I took a closer look at the inscription on the stone. It read that this was supposed to be the grave of a Marla and Samuel _Fipps_. Had I just killed a relative? I was a bit staggered by the fact that this could have been the brother my father sometimes had talked about. I always wanted to meet my uncle one day, but not like that...

From that point on there was not much left to do but go back, so I decided to head back into the church and afterwards to have another look at the grave and the body inside of it. Maybe I'd remember one of the old prayers I had read in a book or somewhere...

I checked once more if I really had all three skulls that this Kayla wanted for the ritual, then I entered the building. Luckily for me I had found a little bag on one of the undead as I was collecting skulls. It made things a lot easier...

All eyes lay on me as I came through the door. It almost looked as if they had been waiting for my return. I walked directly up to Elreth telling her that I did as she had said.

"It's good to hear that you put him to rest, I hope he can find peace this time." I nodded in agreement.

She thanked me once more before I turned around and left her, making my way to the other side of the room where the warlock and his assistant were eagerly waiting.

"How did it go, apprentice? Do have everything we wanted?" Maximillion asked me right away, cutting straight to the chase.

"Yes, of course..." The tone of my voice sounded probably a bit too annoyed for my own good as the warlock offered me an angry look for that in return.

"Hand them over..." He extended his right arm so I could give the skulls to him while he already turned around halfway. I gave all three of them to him and he handed them to Kayla instantly.

"So... Kayla will take a moment of two to prepare the ritual..." She put the skulls on the floor behind us in a triangle. "Then she will start to summon an imp from the twisted nether, the home dimension of all demons, a nice place you should get to know some time... If she does well, an imp will appear. If not, maybe something worse smashing us all into tiny little bits..." I looked at him in some sort of bewilderment. He said that all as if it was nothing and it let me wonder if all warlocks were going to be like this.

"When the imp appears, you have to demand from him to tell you his name. It is essential that you do that because if somebody else does it, this demon will be bound to the other person and I don't want to be a master of another imp. I already have eight or nine due to worthless apprentices before you..." He threw a quick look over his shoulder checking whether Kayla was already set or not.

"After you spoke to the little bugger, he will most likely refuse to tell you his name and most likely start to attack you immediately. If that happens, you have to defeat him in combat. It's as simple as that... An imp has not too much stamina, so just hit him two or three times. Once he surrenders, he is bound to tell you his name. Sometimes those old demon-rules come in handy after all."

Kayla started summoning after she had prepared everything without any delay.

"Oh and beg that the demon refuses and attacks, if he tells you his name willingly, you got a wimpy. Those demons are no use at all..." He offered me a twisted smile as he was saying these words.

I still didn't exactly know what to expect, but I had little choice but to roll with it.

A dark portal appeared in between the three skulls, it was the first time I had ever seen one. The whole thing was rather small, but I guess an imp should fit through it easily. It was a total of six magic hands, ripping apart the fabric of our world, tearing it open so that this twisted little creature would be able to slip through.

Only few seconds later a little yellow glowing creature stood in the middle of the skulls making squealing sounds and talking in a language that was not friendly to one's ears. It actually hurt hearing the creature talk. The language inflicted physical pain...

"By the way, that is the demonic language that puny little bastard is talking in. Actually not too hard to learn and understand... but every demon knows the common language. They are more intelligent than they look." Maximillion whispered to me. "Now... go on... this could be your demon!" Maximillion casually made a few steps backwards.

The imp jumped around furiously on the other hand. I could only imagine how the words he was saying were demanding to let him go back home.

I gathered the courage and stepped forward to the squealing little thing. How hard could it be?

"Tell me... your name!" I stuttered a bit, this all felt rather strange at that time. "I will be your new master!"

The imp turned around jumping up and down.

"My naaaame? YOU waaaant to hear my naaaame? SET ME FREEEE NOW! I will never tell you my naaaame!"

The creature started waving his hands letting them emit a fiery glow. Only seconds later a bolt of fire flew past my head and hit the stone wall behind me. I almost didn't catch on to it in time.

From the corner of my eyes I saw how the warlock behind me already started shaking his head.

I thought for a few seconds but seeing no other way I wanted to end this quickly. I concentrated on the imp, but without the intention to kill him. I just wanted to disable him, so I would cast a single shadow bolt at the creature. At least that was the theory behind my plan.

The jet of light was glowing in a strong dark violet as it flew through the room. It hit the creature directly in the face sending it flying backwards and hitting the wall hard.

"I said defeat it, not kill it!" The warlock behind me screamed out loud as soon as the body of the imp came to a stop on the ground, the others in the room all looking at me in a mixture of shock and horror I assume. All of them were staring at me. At that time I wondered whether that was because of the spell I cast, a presumption that was never proven to me.

The imp only slowly got back to his feet. I looked down at it waiting for it to speak up again. But it only sat down on the floor holding its head with both its much too short little arms. I decided to take this into my hands before Maximillion could interfere yet again.

"Now tell me imp! What is your name?" Saying these words somehow felt good, but it is hard to describe the true feeling behind of it.

"Baaaastaaaard! You aaaalmost killed me!" The creature made a few unidentifiable squealing sounds before standing up again.

Within the blink of an eye the demon was surrounded by flames again.

"My naaaame you seek..." The demon squealed unhappily.

"It is Pipfip..."


	20. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 4

_Chapter 4: _

Obtaining the power to summon my first demon turned out not being too hard after all, though I was still too blind at that time to acknowledge it the way it would have deserved.

A single shadow bolt had been enough to beat it into submission..., to defeat it. And it didn't stop just there, Maximillion had been quite impressed by the strength of the spell I had performed, especially when keeping in mind how is first evaluation of me went rather ... carefully. But in the end he was angrier about me conducting such a strong spell inside the church for I could have damaged the wall severely, which would have inevitably lead to a collapse of the whole structure.

After he had finally finished his rant he continued talking to me for a while because it was clearly obvious how I couldn't control the power level of them things I conjured up, which he was on the spot right about at that time.

Yet, more impressively, I had already breached a level of strength where Maximillion found himself unable to teach me anything further. So he was quick about introducing me to the basics of curses, but that was all he shared with me and frankly it wasn't too difficult for me either.

All this time my new pet minion, the imp was jumping around next to me. This little creature was truly astonishing in my eyes. Despite its weak body, yes even the magic it was able to conduct was of no real threat to any opponent - it was able to store enormous amounts of energy and I could feel how they were traversing over to me.

The only really, really annoying thing was the fact that this little creature just couldn't shut up. It talked and talked and talked the whole damn time it was at my side and although most of it was in Eredrun it never eased up. The only good thing about it was that soon after becoming his new master I noticed how the words the imp spoke in that language didn't hurt my ears anymore.

As a sort of farewell gift, Maximillion handed me a letter for Kaal Soulreaper and told me everything I needed to know to get to him, that if I would follow the road out of Deathknell and turn right at the road crossing I would eventually get to the town of Brill. As I heard the name I swallowed hard and got a raised eyebrow in return as he noticed my reaction. In Brill somebody would tell me how to get to the Undercity though it shouldn't be too difficult he assured me. He also told me that when I talked to Kaal he would definitely teach me many new things and most importantly, supply me with a new robe and other clothing. Something more suitable for an aspiring warlock...

Little did I know how at that moment somebody was already lurking about in the shadows close by, only waiting for me to finally leave the building...

As Maximillion granted me his final farewell, I turned around without too much delay or hesitation and left them in pursuit of my new found future. Outside I turned to the left and wanted to head for Brill immediately. I might as well make the best of my situation I thought and I had waited for so long to be able to see this town again without having to fear for my life.

But beforehand I turned to the grave where I threw Samuel into. I looked down into the open pit and to my astonishment there wasn't anything in there anymore. Hectically I looked around, trying to figure out where the dead body could have disappeared to, but not able to see anything I only started to back off from the grave as quickly as possible. I feared somebody would blame me that Marla's husband had gone missing yet again.

I wasn't even able to take two steps towards the ridge of spears before somebody grabbed my shoulder from the left side, forcefully turning around.

Not sure what would happen I faced the stranger whilst my imp continued jumping around furiously next to me.

"Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!" Pipfip squeaked without intermission.

"Rest assured, I mean you no harm, Hector." His voice was surprisingly calm and it didn't seem as if he wanted to attack me at all. I just couldn't imagine him lying at me. He wore a long coat with a hood covering most of his head. You couldn't even see his face underneath it. For his appearance I trusted him far too easily judging it now. He maybe even used a spell on me at that time, but I can't tell for sure..., too much time had passed since then. "I couldn't prevent from overhearing your conversations in the church with Sarvis and Dueston." What had this guy been trying to tell me, I wondered? "I know a couple people who suffered just the way like you did and I believe you. I believe that you were a cleric in your former life..."

At first I wanted to say something, but I simply was unable to speak at that moment.

"Go to the Undercity and search for the Forgotten Shadow. If you find them, tell them Illius has sent you and give them this." He took a role of parchment from his pockets and handed it to me. "Do NOT open it however! Otherwise they will not talk to you. Your curiosity would be your downfall and they will think you are an impostor. And we all fear the spies of the Nathrezim, as they are everywhere."

He immediately let go of my shoulder, whilst I just kept on looking at him in my bewilderment. Truthfully speaking I understood only about half the things he was talking about.

"I know the Forgotten Shadow will be just right for you, Hector. Now go and find your future..."

Insanity was a trait in these areas I could only figure for myself as the hooded person walked away towards the crypt up on the hill were I initially descended from. I had no idea who this man had been... And he disappeared as fast as he had appeared. At least I had a name... He called himself Illius, but still... I didn't know what to think of all this, yet I made up mind rather swiftly that I'd give it a try. But first in line and above all, I wanted to go to Brill. I was growing desperate to get moving.

And thinking of my life before, I would even say I had the obligation to go to Brill.

When I finally left Deathknell on the road leading to the south, everything was constantly only going downhill, speeding things up quite a bit.

As I passed the small camp of Samuel Fipps once again I heard something that sounded suspiciously like "Maaarlaaa", but I decided not to give in to my curiosity and instead of turning around and having a look, I just walked on.

It wasn't before long that I reached the road crossing, although I was eager to go to Brill, I didn't want to rush it. There was something about this feeling, this anticipation that I wanted to enjoy to its fullest. At the crossing itself several signs pointed off into the different directions. I guessed they were still there from a time long ago, before the Scourge had brought chaos to these lands. Only the inscription on the sign pointing up to Deathknell was missing, there was only an empty arrow left that pointed up the hill into the woods. The signpost also pointed out that to the west was a farm, though I can't recall the name of it.

To the north the road led to the Mills of the Agamand family I still knew that much. It immediately let remember that farm, it had been huge. The family of the Agamands was rather rich for this area due to their prosperous mills. I believe they were once heavily tied in with the economy of Andorhal.

And finally the road leading to the east, it would eventually bring me to Brill, just as the signpost stated.

These parts of the woods seemed rather quiet to me, though they were hardly any different to the rest, just about as dark as it still is typical for Tirisfal now. But there also seemed to be hardly any animals. Even in the woods around Deathknell there were at least some oversized bats and small wolves.

At first I thought about taking the road to the north, for the sake of the old times, but in the end I made up my mind that I should go to Brill first. Sooner or later I would find the time to go to those mills one more time.

The road was long and my surroundings offered little for eyes weary of trees and shade, the imp walking and jumping by my side constantly complaining not making it any easier for me either. He asked me a couple of times why he had to walk by my side with his short legs and why he was there in the first place because we were not fighting against anything. What a truly annoying little demon to have.

The road then made another turn slightly to our left, which should have been somewhat north if I try to remember and from that point on it stayed rather even and without any remarkable turnings or crossings any more.

In the distance I could see a wooden bridge that led over a slope in the countryside.

As me and my demon approached it, we heard a heavy stomping coming from the woods next to us. I turned round trying to make out where this was coming from exactly. And I found out far too quickly for my liking...

An abomination was making its way right towards us. I couldn't believe it! Why was such a strong minion of the Scourge within these woods? And damn that Maximillion that he didn't even try to warn me!

The giant lump of undead flesh came closer quickly. I on the other hand was paralyzed for a moment, a moment far too long. Until I had managed to focus again that thing already stood in front of me his arms close enough to smash into tiny little pieces.

But... nothing happened.

The giant patchwork golem grunted once or twice.

"Gordo picky picky Gloom Weed. Gordo good!" The Abomination told me and turned to the side, heading further west as it left me standing where I was.

What an irritating experience, though hardly any danger. From that I concluded for myself that the Forsaken had their own abominations on their side now.

We crossed the bridge fast and I even considered picking the imp up for the journey, as I feared the flames covering the body of the puny demon could set it on fire. At that time I still didn't know that demon flames are cold as long as the creature is calm.

Continuing our way soon a mounted deathguard came towards me.

"Greetings warlock." He spoke and I returned his salute whilst stepping to the side so he could pass easily. His horse was as dead as he was. I had never seen such a creature before. Probably he was patrolling this part of the road. I was a bit baffled on why he knew me as warlock so easily at that time and I did not realize any time soon that the demon was dead giveaway for probably anybody...

Traveling onwards we quickly reached the outer parts of the town I had been searching for so long.

Somehow it felt strange to walk through Brill again. The last time I could remember walking these streets, I was almost killed by an assassin of the Forsaken. But looking at it now more importantly that was the moment the shadows claimed its part of my soul.

I still know where the place is even now, but back then I came to the point that it would be better not to go there ever again. I wanted to leave that part of my personal history behind me for good.

Continuing my way I passed the huge graveyard of Brill.

Somebody on the other side of the fence was wildly shouting around.

"THAT IDIOT! Gordo is such a useless lump of flesh." The voice was furious, "He only picks Gloom Weed - I need DOOM Weed. Go get me some apprentice - NOW! To the north!"

A robed figure came running through the gate and turned to the right immediately afterwards. He then took the short cut to the northern coast passing through between the fence and the town hall. That poor bastard had to do the things that giant lump of rotting flesh messed up.

My last faint memories grabbing a hold of my mind I blindly walked onwards trying to remember where I had lived with my father in that town. Yet apparently it seemed that some of the houses had been destroyed during the time the Scourge was here, so I believe our house was also taken down.

There was another Forsaken on a skeletal horse in front of the town hall. I approached him carefully, hoping he would be able to provide the information I was seeking.

"Good day, may I...?" I wanted to ask just a simple question.

"Speak only when spoken to!" He shouts at me. "Kill some of the Scarlet Crusade, bring me proof of your deeds and afterwards we can talk!" I swallowed hard not sure what to make of it.

I walked away from him backwards not saying one further word as I kept my eyes on him.

On the other side of the road I found a stable. Drawing closer to it I found it full of those undead horses I had seen before. Another deathguard was also standing there looking after the undead animals. Some of them even had a pair of horns on their skulls..., those few emitting a faint glow from their body. It made me wonder whether they were magical maybe. Majestic creatures, I had to admit, I liked them more than living horses from the first moment on I saw them and I still do, though nothing matches my dreadsteed.

My imp continued to complain the whole time why I didn't have one of those. He said that it was a shame that he was stuck in this realm with probably the poorest warlock ever to exist.

"Do you want one? The horned ones 40 pieces of gold, the smaller ones only nine pieces." The guy trying to sell his mounts smiled at me in a friendly yet disturbing fashion. I shook my head in response and turned down his offer due to a lack of gold and riding skill on my part.

But there was no point in dwelling on it, so I asked the guard which way I had to go to get to the Undercity from there. It took a moment until the Forsaken answered me and I already mentally prepared to back off again if he asked me to kill something beforehand.

To my surprise he told me directly without any further 'go kill this' tasks.

'Follow the road to the south from there you should already see the city gates, go through the courtyard and inside the building directly to the south of you. Inside the crypt you will find elevators down to the Undercity', those were about his exact words. Not too detailed, but they would make do.

I thanked him and said my brief farewell.

If I had had enough gold that day, I would probably have bought one of those steeds. I envied everyone who had one of these for a far too long time. It made me smile at myself as I had these thoughts running through the back of my mind, as the imp next to me continued his squealing about how cruel destiny had been to him during the last few days.

At that time I still listened to most of the things he said, although it took me a lot of nerves to cope with this ever-complaining little being.

Ignoring my own craving to answer one of his little rants I silently followed the road around the small hill.

I hadn't realized until that very moment that the Undercity had to be inside the ruins of the capital city of Lordaeron. A large blue banner was hanging from the walls outside the ruins. It showed two white arrows crossing, one horizontal the other one vertical. A third, yet broken arrow rested diagonally underneath the other two and on the crossing of the three there was a shattered white mask, about half of it was missing. The face was clearly held female, somehow elven-like. The look on it grim and she was shedding a single tear of blood. Underneath all of this there was a shield with the picture of a raven.

What a fearsome and likewise disturbing symbol to have on his banner.

I entered the courtyard through the giant stone gate of Lordaeron, a sad place I unfortunately only knew too well from my dreams of old.

The once so proud statue in midst of it by then lay shattered into ruins.

The imp next to me squealed once again, that time it sounded like laughter, "Stupid humaaaans."

I walked along and passed the bell tower. I knew those corridors...

Next came the throne room, in the back of it two more doors. In the past they had been closed for most of the time, but by then they were standing wide open. As I walked up towards the right one I noticed it, the stain of blood still on the floor. All this had happened so many years ago and yet these drops of blood won't perish even until today.

Once I was able to take my eyes of this piece of materialized ruin and I had made my way through the doors behind the throne, I entered a crypt. There was nothing too unusual about that, yet I heard grunting noises coming from everywhere around me.

The light in there was too gloomy so I noticed the three smaller hallways only after several minutes of staring into the nothingness and the fire of the imp hardly emitted any light. So he had been no help either. He probably enjoyed seeing me squirm around like that. Slowly I started to wonder if one could really call the things covering the body of the imp flames at all...

I looked around the corner leading into one of these corridors. For a moment I stood there paralyzed as I saw two more abominations, both of them emitting a strong green glow. They both turned their heads and looked at me and behind them a door opened up leading into a circular room.

I took all my courage and walked towards them. A small space was left in between those two giant ripped open bellies. The stench was overwhelming, even for my rotten senses. I hurried into the room behind them before the door closed again and in there I relaxed for a moment. A bump went through the floor and the whole thing started moving downwards all of a sudden. That thing was astonishingly fast too. It only slowed down as we had almost reached the bottom. This elevator shaft had really been deep. I could only imagine how far of a way I had travelled down. A door opened in my back and I hurried to get out so that I would not be taken back up to the surface again.

Following the turning gangway ahead of me I ended up in a large circular room.

That place was overwhelming the first time I saw it.

On the level I was at that moment I could see small shops all around the room. Two large staircases offered a way down to the center of this hall. In the middle of the room there was a thing that looked a bit like an obelisk, but in its middle part there were also small windows with Forsaken behind them.

I stepped to the edge of the floor on this level and looked down. The staircases led to the bottom level, a moat filled with a viscous looking green fluid surrounded the floor of the great hall. Four bridges crossing it were probably leading to further areas.

From a pipe far to my right the green fluid slowly flowed into the moat down at the bottom of the room.

It was hard to comprehend that something this spacious was located underneath the former capital city where my father used work and died.

And it was a busy area indeed. I heard voices coming from all around me. Forsaken were talking and trading everywhere, it was just like a market place only... more.

I turned to my left and followed the upper ring towards the staircase leading downwards. I knew I would have to ask someone where I had to go to get to this Kaal Soulreaper guy or how to get to the... how did he call it - Forgotten Shadow. I was hardly able to keep track of any of the two names at that time.

Although I hated doing things like this, talking and asking things of random strangers I found in my former life, I wouldn't get over with this if I didn't get myself together. So I just walked up to the next best people and asked them, somebody would help me eventually I figured...

I decided to find out more about the Forgotten Shadow first. After all I had all the time in this world now. It was not like could die or something like that...

I talked briefly to about four or five people, every conversation ending approximately the same way, except for one with a guy who persistently wanted to sell me mushrooms instead of answering my question no matter what I said or did.

The innkeeper was the first one capable to actually help me out. He also didn't know where exactly I had to go, but he told me that the war quarters were the home of the cult in Undercity. He also briefly described to me how I would get there fastest. I thanked him, promised I'd return on a drink or something and took off towards the stairs down to the bottom level of the hall.

I crossed the green fluid over the bridge to my right.

After that I ended up in another rather big hallway. It followed a bent course, made me guess it also was a giant circle around the inner hall. This city seems to be built fairly symmetrically... I turned right the opportunity I had, just as the Forsaken had told me. Only a few meters later a smaller hallway turned off to the left from my point of view.

Following this one led me to another even bigger hallway. I quickly came to the conclusion how it had been yet another circle around the city. In the midst of it there was a wide moat again filled with that green slime. The ceiling in this part of the city was even higher than in the middle hall. After a while I saw how several abominations were patrolling these lower areas.

The innkeeper told me, that if I turned left there, I should be directly in the war quarters.

All around these two circular hallways were pennants like the one on the outer wall. The look in the eye of that female face let the blood in your veins freeze. I tried not to look at it anymore if I did not need to, yet the eye of it seemed to follow me everywhere I went. Something about that emblem was just terrifying for me. My imp on the other hand jumped besides me squealing out loudly, I think that little creature was laughing at me the whole time.

I followed the path on this side of the moat to my left and entered the quarter through a smaller doorway. The first thing I saw was a blacksmith. By then I knew I was right where I wanted to be.

Two bridges were leading over the trench to the other side. On this side there were merchants and trainers for warriors, on the other side there was a rather large building, I can't really describe it if I'm honest. The architecture was war worse than simply strange and besides that was the first of the two or three times in my undead life that I went into the war quarters. I simply didn't care.

In front of the building I saw a group of Forsaken forming a circle. Two of them standing in the middle were fighting weaker minions of the Scourge. All of the viewers were cheering and shouting wildly.

I crossed the bridge and entered the building I got a glimpse of them picking apart a couple of weaker minions of the Scourge.

On the inside of said strange building I found myself in midst of clerics all giving me strange looks, wondering why a warlock would come to these areas in the first place. They told me I should rather go to the Temple of the Damned in the mage quarters, making clear I was not wanted here. They just wanted to get rid of me.

And what a strange feeling that was for me too... Not too long before I aspired to become one of them, now they already wanted to disown me.

For the time being I just decided to ignore them and asked blindly into the room whether somebody knew anything about the Forgotten Shadow just before somebody could start pushing me out of the door again by force.

In a single moment everyone was quiet, there were about eight people inside together with me and none of them spoke another word, they didn't even move. I wouldn't have expected that a warlock asking this would be this shocking.

One of them stepped forth after a while. "How do you know of the Forgotten Shadow?" He asked me unbelieving what I had just wanted to know.

I told him what I had known to be the truth..., that a man named Illius had sent me here. Although the moment I finished my sentence laughter broke out amongst most of them, others only smirked. I took out the role of parchment from my pocket and handed it to the Forsaken who had asked me how I knew of the cult.

He immediately read through the whole thing and with every word he opened his empty eye sockets further and further, the glow from them becoming stronger and stronger.

"Call me Garner, come with me... and make it quick!" He stepped forward and pushed me outside again. "So I see, you were telling the truth after all..." He led me behind the building without another stop... "You don't seem to know that Illius is our leader. But besides that, I'm astonished that a warlock wants to join us... yet again these words of Illius state that you wanted to become a priest during the time you were alive. Is that correct?" I nodded as I guessed that was a rhetorical question.

"I don't know why he sent you here, if I'm honest, the center of the cult is in Deathknell after all." Now that was something surprising to hear. "This is more of an outpost, but well, I guess it doesn't matter. Do you know anything about the Cult of the Forgotten Shadow already, do you?"

"No, not really if I'm completely honest..." I looked down to the floor for a short moment, falling back into old habits.

"I will make it brief for you as a starter. There are three virtues we follow and respect in this cult above everything else: Respect, tenacity and power. Every one of the Forgotten Shadow always seeks to become stronger and develop their personal power, therefore respect towards other is necessary or you will eventually bluntly come to challenge a foe that is too strong for you. You can view it is a measure of self-protection. Also you have to be tenacious to reach your goal whilst every Forsaken around you will probably want to do exactly the same thing. And power is the last virtue - the most important one as many of us say. A Forsaken not longing to become stronger is not more worth than a ghoul of the Scourge. So you truthfully said you wanted to be a cleric in your former life?"

"Yes, that is true." I responded briefly whilst already growing annoyed from him asking as second time, the imp by my side also squealing in agony.

"Then you shall find many who are just like you within the cult." He looked around as if he was on the watch for something.

"I'm sorry to end this conversation so quickly, but I have important things to address to right now... You are welcome as a member of the cult, be sure that you always strive for more power and never be disrespectful towards other members of the cult. Farewell to you for now, new initiate." He then quickly disappeared inside the building again.

That was strange a strange experience for a start. He was in quite the hurry explaining this to me. He even welcomed me to the cult on the spot in an instance. This didn't really answer any of my questions about the cult itself, but I had to live with it, at least for the moment. Again I also had much to tend to so I made up my mind to go and find out more about them later on.

If I try to think about what I've found out since that day now, well it isn't too much all in all.

I quickly became a high ranked member of course, but I turned to follow my own goals soon enough. Although I have to admit I still follow the virtues themselves, yet respect is something you have to earn from me. But the rest? Let's put it like this: it's worth it. Transcending death...; that is something to pursue throughout your life. Their belief about this divine humanism is also somewhat appealing to me. It basically says that you by yourself can shape the universe around you.

Being able to become a god... yes...

This cult offered me salvation at that time. I longed for freedom and for that I had to become stronger. I wanted to walk my own path, without being dependent on someone else again. The things they teach offered anything my weak heart was seeking for. It showed me that my soul was just too frail in my former life.

And don't get me wrong..., I'm not glad about the curse of undeath, but I accepted it. After all it offered me a second chance. And I was clearly stronger than before. The magic I was able to control already at that point was astonishing. The shadows offered me their aid and I finally embraced them.

If I look back at my former life, at my former self, I start to wonder why I rejected this power in the first place. I would even go so far to say that I would probably have never died in the first place, if I had given in earlier.

But well, it was too late to be thinking about that now and mourning my death wouldn't bring me any further.

It was the cult and Kaal Soulreaper that gave me a new perspective on my existence.

I left my former self behind for good and I didn't ever want to have to look back again. Everybody I met after my death was only looking forward. Therefore I tried to leave my old self behind as good as I could, make my memories about it as volatile as possible...

And I guess my imp approved of that too.


	21. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 5

_Chapter 5: _

When I first met with Kaal Soulreaper it had been quite difficult for me to stay calm. But what would you expect? After all it was the first time I met an orc and nobody had the decency to give me a heads up...

No matter what their heritage, I probably would never have expected that an orc turns out to be the leader of the warlock guild of Undercity, the domain of the Forsaken. And although I assumed correctly that his physical strength was hovering at a minimum, for an orc that is at least, his muscles were still most impressive.

The robe which was supposed to hide away this body of a brute was as red as blood with a few parts around the chest that were toned pitch black. The two other warlocks next to him were also wearing a similar vestment, despite minor differences. I presumed that this had to be some sort of uniform for them. Of all three Kaal was the only one who wore shoulder pads, both of them showed a large demonic skull with four horns attached. In his giant green fist he clutched a wooden staff with a human skull on top of it. Below there were a total of four spikes that all seemed as sharp as razors if you had the chance to take a closer look at them. The staff itself was rather short, I guess you could use it as a mace too if you had to. A quite suitable weapon, for an orc that is...

The first time we met he was already quite impressed by the strength I had achieved. This letter Maximillion handed me for him must have been filled with a lot more praise than I had imagined. So he didn't lie after all... Kaal really liked recommendations of his.

Yet the orc also told me instantly that this strength would be worth nothing as long as I had only a puny imp under my control. The true power of a warlock is easily measured by the number of demons he has under his control. Most warlocks tend to have different ones, four hereby being the magic number. Except for those few individuals who took a different path - some who studied the demonic arts intensely breached this number and achieved power over even a fifth one.

But there are of course a few ones that can summon six or even seven different creatures from the twisted nether. Everyone who was able to go even further, had died so far. At least that is what the rumors state... In any way... more is always possible. Limit being your own foolishness, which left me with conclusion: 'Live strong or die weak.'

Soulreaper also said that he would assist me in obtaining these four core-demons, but everything I tried or did to get further was none of his responsibility. I kind of liked the sound of that...

Some warlocks on the other hand focused on being able to summon lots and lots of demons from the same type, imps for example. They prove to be the easiest by far. Kaal continued to describe how a few warlocks had a legion of imps under their service, some of them were even capable of summoning more than one at the same time. As I had figured out on my own already, a sole imp may not be a fearsome opponent, but 30 of these little creatures at once are able let a rain of fire go down on you that you will never forget.

The three demons I still would have to acquire were what he called a voidwalker, a succubus and a felhunter. When I would be able to summon all four of these 'basic demons', I would lose the status of an apprentice and be a fully trained warlock in his eyes. He also hinted on that I would receive a robe from the warlocks' guild afterwards. He didn't try to describe it for he assured me it would be far more fun if you didn't spoil the surprise of how they looked. I didn't question him, but having seen members of the warlock's guild, I guessed you had to be a bit mad if you wanted to become a part of this. In any case to hear something like this was surely the last thing I would have expected from an orc.

After Soulreaper had finished his little fashion excursus, he again began focusing on the demons I needed to enslave. In my case, he decided summoning the voidwalker first would prove to be easiest. Kaal then filled me in on how the Scarlet Crusade had a small outpost at a tower directly to the north-west of the Undercity. It had been a powerful warlock named Egalin who was the first one to ever summon a voidwalker into this realm without the aid of somebody else. The way he managed to do this was written down in a book, which had been stored in Undercity. Yet in tragic turn of events it had been stolen by an agent of the Scarlet Crusade only few days ago from that point in time. Apparently the spies of the Basheequeen had reported in that the book in question had been taken to the Scarlet outpost out there, unfortunately the scouts sent our afterwards weren't able to find too much else. Some of them not even returned...

If I was able to recover said book, Kaal told me he would personally teach me how to summon such a creature of the void. Without much thought invested I agreed to his proposal and went off.

As I left the city through the ruins of Lordaeron, the imp by my side was happily squeaking. "Once maaaaster haaaas aaaaa new pet, maaaaster will give Pipfip time off. Pipfip will not haaaave to waaaalk aaaalong with useless undead aaaany more."

I gave him an angry look, but the imp didn't even think of stopping. I accepted that you could enslave them, but you couldn't stop them from talking.

The watchtower with the outpost wasn't too far away, although it presented itself more as a ruin. Yet I could already see the scarlet sets of armor from far away, shining through from in between the trees. Something was tingling in my fingers. Come to speak of it, I think that was the first time I ever felt it, this urge to kill, although I was far from being able to understand or even name it at that time.

To my surprise there weren't too many people at the tower. Two guards at the entrance and a total of three people roaming the area, I had a wild guess and took it for given that I'd find a few more inside the structure. With this first impression I might have felt save, but it also unnerved me. I just couldn't get rid of the feeling that the book wasn't here anymore, which luckily was not the case as I was soon to find out.

I approached the ruins directly without seeking cover or trying to avoid a fight. Kaal had taught me a couple of quick, easy spells right after I got to know him and now I wanted to see what these spell were capable of.

The first guard quickly spotted me. She was a fine young woman, blonde hair, wielding a sword and a shield. "Filthy undead! DIE, minion of the Scourge!" Screaming these words she came charging towards me without any second of delay. I on the other hand casually kept drawing closer. I knew I would be discovered soon enough, with or without the screaming. This shout of her would surely also have alarmed the other soldiers around here and the screams she was about to let out in pain and agony would set loose only more people chasing me.

Yet I had made up my mind. I wouldn't run. I did so long enough! This time was different, the shadows would lend me their strength and I knew it. The feeling of certain superiority arose and I cherished it for only a second before something turned more important. I wanted to taste blood.

The imp by my sided wanted to attack her, the balls of fire already forming in his ill-portioned hands, but I ordered him to stay calm, to refrain from what he was doing.

Although I never let the little demon attack, he still was a strong companion by my side. His presence enhanced my stamina and magical proves to a degree unfathomable by mere trash.

As the woman almost had reached melee range she raised her sword ready to land the killing blow with a single strike. I whispered a formula in demonic that I had learned when I was still in Deathknell and the woman stopped in her tracks immediately. It took a second but then she started screaming in agony letting go of her sword, ultimately falling to the ground unable to protect herself any longer.

I took my time watching her for a while. I wanted to see what the spell did. My eyes followed every moment as she lay there on the ground, her flesh twisting in pain. She spat out blood once or twice and the curse already began inflicting real physical damage to her. Yet another sign of my strength...

It made me wonder what I would be capable of using 'Shadow word: Pain', but I was a warlock now, thinking about that was useless. I had my own equivalent for the spell... and I was using it already.

After having seen enough I focused again on the situation at hand and looked around. The two guards at the entrance of the tower were still standing there, only difference now they had their weapons drawn. The two other soldiers were still out searching for me, hectically searching the area.

The woman lying next to my feet was still screaming. It almost seemed as if it was never to stop and one part of me began pitying the weak, still I didn't want to finish her off just yet. The other two still had to find me and she was my little bait.

I didn't know why exactly, but a smile came to my rotten lips.

One of the two other warriors finally managed to spot me. Alright..., I have to admit, it wasn't fair to begin with. I stood behind the trunk of an old tree and the female soldier had fallen right behind it so you probably couldn't see her at all.

Yet not too bothered about such pettiness, I sent a shadow bolt flying at the one warrior who had spotted me. I can't exactly recall where it had hit him, but I remember that he flew backwards and all you heard of him was a loud gargling. Finally even the last one had seen where I was standing, not that this would have been too difficult now, my hands were glowing in a strong and dark violet. The woman besides me was still wincing in pain. I didn't know if she would die or if the effect would wear off after some time. But well, I left her lying there and she was smart enough not to charge at me again... so, who knows what happened in the end except for her?

The second jet of shadow magic then flew towards the other guard. Seemingly unable to miss its target, it whirled around once and then hit the guard in the shoulder. It pierced right through the body, letting the guard also fly off backwards, his blood being spread widely. One of them was dead for sure, two more lying on the ground in agony at least. The body count started rising ever so slightly...

Was this really the Scarlet Crusade I had admired for so long during the time when I was alive?

Then the time came to test the first fire spell I had learned in Undercity. Kaal called it 'immolate'. Basically speaking you use the normal heat around something and enhance the temperature by infusing magic. If you do well, this spell will set your opponent ablaze without you having to either touch him or generate flames on your own. Actually rather easy spell, although it sounds far more complicated... but who am I telling...

Slowly I continued to approach the tower. Both remaining guards try their best to get me and attacked in combined effort, knowing that this should increase their chance of succeeding. Fools...

Casting immolate only takes up a few seconds and depending on the caster maybe even less.

The first of the two guards was set on fire before he even had fully left the ruins. The second one became another victim of my curse of agony.

I looked around one more time, checking whether that had been all of them. Three guards were now lying on the ground screaming in pain as the flesh and bones turned, one guard was definitely dead and the fifth one was running off in desperate search of water. I never bothered finding out what had happened to him in the end.

There were more important things I needed tending to, so I walked right up the slope to the tower and entered the ruins.

"Who dares to enter the realm of Captain Narval?" He gazed at me from crazed eyes. "Foul minion of the Scourge! I shall bring rest to your unholy existence and avenge my men you have taken!"

A lot of big words for only another man ridden by fanaticism...

In the back of the circular room I spotted a chest, it was located underneath a destroyed staircase. Something told me that I would find what I was looking for inside that chest...

My eyes shortly wandering up I could see the clear sky over Tirisfal.

I didn't pay too much attention to the man standing over to the side. And he didn't move an inch on his own either for a while. I suppose he had hoped to scare me away by shouting at me. It was only with the first step he took, that I looked over towards him.

I knew this man, I definitely did...

Yet we were on different sides now. I spoke the short cast and lay a spell on him called corruption. Another rather simple thing, but effective if you like toying around...

It activates the shadow energies flowing through the target. The stronger the spell and the stronger the shadow energy inside the target, the greater is the effect. I didn't put too much effort into it, so the spell shouldn't have been too effective on its own, mainly because he was only a mere warrior. Yet I had already hoped for a bit more than that, simply because he was member of the Scarlet Crusade.

The spell causes a painful stinging and itching just underneath the skin, so usually people with a strong will are able to just simply ignore the effects without much to it. But somebody with a less persistent mind will start to focus on that and he will start scratching him or herself in response.

Usually the targets will do the greatest damage to themselves by themselves. Captain Narval proved to be no exception to this. The moment the spell had been applied onto him, he stopped immediately and started scratching himself everywhere. The pain this spell creates grows stronger by the minute, although this is mostly because of the victims scratching off their own skin.

"What is this? What have you done to me?" He started screaming as his fingernails dug deeper into his flesh and the first few layers of skin were already scraped off his arm. Bare flesh became clearly visible and blood streams formed, running down from the wounds dripping to the floor.

His death was drawing closer and closer due to his lack of spirit and will power.

How ironic.

I opened the chest and took the book out of it. Without looking back I left the destroyed tower and headed for the front entrance of the Undercity again, the grimoire in my hands and the screams of the tormented following me for quite a while as I strolled through the dark woods.

I opened the book and to my surprise all of it was written in demonic. I tried to read a few sentences but after the second one I already had to stop. This language was strange at first although I came to understand it as time passed. Main thing being for one who does not comprehend it, it will hurt when hearing it.

'_X amir maev shi azgalanda il lok zenn.'_

The imp next to me squealed happily as I read those words out loud. Somehow the world around me started to grow colder than usual for a couple of moment, but I didn't give too much on that. Skipping through the pages I found myself only understanding minor parts of the text written in the book.

As I walked on I skipped to another random page of the folio which showed a strange kind of circle with various instructions added around the image. An interesting picture especially as the lines seemed strangely glazed for whatever reason.

After finally reaching the ruins of Lordaeron again was quick to enter the elevators down to the Undercity, though I still had to get used to that.

It took a while for me to find my way to the mage quarter again, although the city seemed to be almost perfectly symmetrical, you lost orientation pretty quickly. I ended up asking someone for help again, before I had found the right way.

Back in the mage quarters inside the Temple of the Damned, as it was called, I handed the book over to Kaal Soulreaper. He was obviously impressed how quick I was in returning with it. He only wanted to know whether I had any problems getting it. "Nothing mentionable..." I replied briefly with a cold voice. His expression showed approval and would be quick to carry on.

"Follow me warlock apprentice and face a creature from the void itself, soon to become your follower."

We left the building and turned left. A single Forsaken was already awaiting us.

"We have several copies of how to make such a summoning circle, yet the ritual itself is only written down in this book." The old orc thought for a moment. "There is another copy in Orgrimmar. Yet it was vital to recover this grimoire from the Scarlet Crusade. None could imagine what they might try to make of it..."

The circle was shining forth in a bright violet toning. I guess it had been already prepared for my return.

"I will now conduct the summoning, be prepared. As soon as the demon arrives in this world, it will surely start to attack and seek its freedom. It feeds on shadows and feels hardly any pain so be sure to have a strategy for defeating it." He told me that just a moment before the summoning itself took place. That miserable old bastard!

My imp was jumping around my feet as Kaal recited the words I had already said out loud on my way here.

'_X amir maev shi azgalanda il lok zenn. _(I call upon you, creature of the void.)_'_

He went on with seemingly similar sentences.

Inside the circle a blue cloud was appearing. It slowly formed as it looked as if the shadows were gathering at that particular point. Dark blue arms came reaching out of the sudden shade and as soon as the head had emerged, violet bracers with a golden lining appeared on the wrists of the demon. Its eyes were emitting a white light, probably the only thing about this creature not solely darkened. The rest of the gathered shadows then formed the bulky body of the creature, its shape in constant motion.

"_Kar refir xi revola no?_ (Who dares to summon me?)" The voice sounded hollow and was extremely dark. The sole presence of the demon was chilling the air around us.

For a moment it looked around, Kaal then directed it to me with some kind of magic.

I thought myself prepared and sent a shadow bolt at the demon and it hit the creature directly in the dark blue chest. Yet the reaction was not the way I had hoped for it to be. The shadow energy was absorbed entirely letting the voidwalker turn darker and enhance it in size. I made a few steps backwards, the demon obviously taking its time.

Shadow magic was of no use now, so I had to resort to fighting with fire.

For the very first time I ordered Pipfip to attack something. Happily he jumped up and down. The first fire bolt flew towards the creature of the void only a moment later. It had not too much of effect on the voidwalker, but it was better than blowing it up even more making it stronger and stronger.

I set my immolate on it and backed up a bit further. It slowed down a bit more. It was definitely not the fastest demon in this world. ..

And in fact, when I look back on it now, I could say that this probably was one of the most boring fights I've ever had to engage into. I just kept backing off from the creature and used the immolate spell Kaal had taught me.

Eventually the demon stopped and somehow fell down, if shadows can fall over that is. The moment I was sure of my victory I ordered my imp to seize fire.

I came closer again, but didn't let my guard down just yet. As I stood over the creature I demanded to know its name. In response it briefly uttered something that sounded like 'Belmon'.

As soon as he had become my new pet I dismissed him from this world and he gladly returned to the twisted nether. Kaal then came up to me and complimented me on making such great progress so incredibly fast. He even said that I would already be ready for acquiring a third demon, the seductive succubus. And he also told me that the leader of the mage guild, a banshee named Kaelystia, would be able to help me with my task.

But before he sent me off yet again, he explained two new spells to me. He meant I would be ready for them now.

So much work to do...


	22. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 6

_Chapter 6: _

The circle for summoning a succubus is actually also rather easily done, as I was told and Kaal's acolytes would get started on preparing one immediately after I left. Yet there had to be some kind of difficulty to it, don't you think so too? And yes, unfortunately it turns out there was one..., a succubus is not summoned so simply like most other demons, they only come to this world if you either offer them something or if you lure them to this realm. Sometimes, though rather seldom, they appear on their whim, but sadly you simply can't force them...

After reentering the Temple of the Damned, Kaal pointed me towards a staircase. If I followed the steps up and outside, I would meet Kaelystia. Not questioning any of what he said I did as I was told. I know I acted like sheep, blindfolded on the behalf of somebody else, but I was still foolish at that time...

But like this I found out that the temple had an upper level to it outside of the building itself.

Searching for this mage I followed the way around half of the building before I could see the banshee hovering in mid-air.

She was still very much looking like an elf, yet her appearance was ghostly to say the least. Her body almost completely white and transparent, though judging from the other banshees I met since that time, something was off about her.

The moment I spoke to her, she responded rather friendly in the typical high pitched voice of these creatures. The sound of it almost hurt my ears, though it wasn't as bad as Eredrun at the time. She pointed out that her scholar would be able to aid me with my problem. She told me his name and that he would probably be on the other side of the moat trying to improve his skills in tailoring magical cloth.

You got to love being sent around all the time...

Fortunately enough I found a second staircase leading down on the outside so I wouldn't have to go through the inside of the temple again. The moat was crossed fast leaving it behind me for now, the imp by my side already complaining again. Egocentric little wretch...! Always going on about why I was still forcing him to walk around with me. Especially now when the blue cold thingy would surely be a far greater help than his presence... I ignored everything the imp said and just walked onwards, luckily a demon is bound to its master so he has to follow, no matter what happens.

After I had finally found the local tailor I actually also stumbled upon the scholar. He was a bit surprised that his mistress told me to search for him, but then again he also told me that he was involved with warlock invocations ever since he became a Forsaken. Great how the guild trusted outsiders... wouldn't happen on my watch, but to hell with all of them... they've been digging their own pointless graves ever since. We left the tailor's store because of our discussion to come should not be suitable for everybody's ears. Living with the constant fear of being spied upon is something I still had to learn back then, but besides that I guess you don't have to spread rumors about how to summon different types of demons to people if you can avoid it.

"Well, right now we have nothing in stock that we could offer to a succubus that would suit her tastes so I guess we will have to lure her into this world." Those were his first words concerning my problem.

He told me that a succubus sometimes responds if you offer her something she looks at as fun. This could, for example, be a living person, or to be more precise the body of a living person that she can have her way with. The definition of that being rather loosely...

"To lure her into this world we have to make use of the fact that succubi are attracted to people who are pure and naive - men of honor and blind goodness. Luckily for us, those people don't have to be alive anymore. This should make it easier for you to obtain what we need." We crossed over the moat on one of the bridges.

On the other side he stopped and told me what exactly I would need.

"The hearts of two people should make do, two certain people though. And I know exactly who would be most appropriate for your needs..." The undead smiled at me revealing a row of blackened teeth. "The name of the first one is called Dalin Forgewright. He supports the refugees of Lordaeron at the Greymane Wall in the south of the Silverpine Forest. The wall itself is still shut tightly, but still those idiots make camp at the giant gate, hoping it would open someday, offering them the shelter they sought for so long. And the other is a man named Comar Villard. He lost his wife in the wetlands to the south of the Arathi Highlands. He still wanders that area in hope of finding her. What a naive fool he is..." The Forsaken chuckled. "Now, please excuse me, I still have unfinished business to turn my attention to."

He granted me a quick farewell and I responded accordingly. From what I heard I assumed the biggest part of this task should be all the travelling and I wasn't wrong on that part... But I guess the true horror lay deep within the imp that would accompany me on the whole way. On the other hand I could have just dismissed him sooner or later, if I think of it and he would have been glad about it too.

Having an idea of what I needed I decided to gather some more supplies in Undercity before I headed out into the world again.

This is another great feature of this curse of undeath... the simple fact that you don't have to sleep anymore. After a while I noticed that it would probably be a good idea to send my demon resting for a change. That little creature still could grow tired enough.

The demon squeaked happily the moment I dismissed him.

Then I summoned my voidwalker. I did not want to go out along for the moment, besides I wondered how it would be travelling with him.

"I hate this place..." The deep voice grunted the exact moment he stepped out of the portal next to me.

I knew immediately this could only go great...

As I walked through the center of Undercity, I saw something that looked like an enclosure with giant bats. I walked directly up to the Forsaken standing in front of it hoping to find out a bit more about it. Yet before I could ask any of my questions, he already told me that the bat-travel-service out of Undercity was currently out of order because many of the animals were sick. Appears some idiot brought in a highly contagious decease from Kalimdor. Whoever it had been..., I cursed him! This would have speeded things up by a lot.

So I had no other choice but to leave Undercity on the usual way, meaning on foot. As soon as I had left the ruins of Lordaeron I started to make my way to the west following the road. It should turn to the south soon enough, if I believe the people who tried to give me directions so far. Not to mention the map I got from a cartographer in Undercity showing where I had to go to. I guessed this would take a couple of days at least until I reached the wetlands. The Greymane Wall was not so much the problem, but still it was quite some way. That demon better be worth it, was one of my main thoughts over and over again.

It took me over half a day to get even only close to the southern end of the Silverpine Forest. I started my journey in the early afternoon, and it already was way past midnight when I first saw the Greymane Wall appearing in the distance up ahead of me.

Silverpine Forest itself was about as densely packed with trees as the woods in Tirisfal. The biggest difference between them was that Silverpine was swarming with wolves and bears of seemingly every possible size. At one time I even thought I had seen one of them walk on two instead of four, but the animal had disappeared before I could get any closer and to be fully honest, that didn't matter to me that much at the time.

To my surprise hardly anyone was standing guard at the camp of these self-proclaimed refugees. And the Greymane Wall was a lot bigger than I had ever imagined. Those people from Gilneas really wanted to make sure nobody would ever trespass into their lands. I still raise an eyebrow whilst thinking about this, but whatever floats their boats...

As I had now reached the encampment I was confronted with a new problem: how should I find that Forgewright person?

The dark blue entity called a voidwalker next to me only silently wobbled around as we drew nearer towards the campsite, dodging behind the closer trees. Directly in front of us, only about five meters away, a campfire was set up with three guards around it. Those seemed to be all humans that were awake at that time.

Although I was here to kill only one person, I felt this itching in my hands again. Somehow I had liked the skirmish that had taken place when I was fetching the grimoire from the Scarlet Crusade, although they were hardly a match for me. Again it was the feeling of superiority which appealed to me.

My biggest problem was that I did not know any spell at that time that was able to take care of a lot of enemies. This made things difficult for a start. So I took my time and thought about it for a while, but as it turned out to be of no use, I had no other choice but to go with a diversion tactic.

The fact that it was a rather dark and cloudy night was not only to the delight of my newest pet demon but also formed to be a major advantage. I ordered my voidwalker so suck up as much of the shadows around us as he could. And as he began to follow the order, slowly he grew and grew upon feeding from the darkness around us. I still wonder sometimes if a creature like this would be able to explode due to too much feasting.

After the voidwalker had about doubled his size, I ordered him to stop, in fear that he might become stronger than me. At that time I still wasn't able to assess how mighty my demons were and which tasks suited each of them best. If I think of the situation back then now, I would say sending the voidwalker in there after letting him feed on the shadows was a great idea. A stroke of genius every madman encounters once in a while.

As I then gave the command, my voidwalker rushed off to the guards at the campfire. If I'm honest, he wasn't that fast, but for his means he rushed in there. The blue bulk hit the first warrior off guard on the back of his head so that he fell over, sadly enough he only landed right next to the fire and not in it.

The other guards jumped to their feet and began yelling on the spot, "DEMON! ... TO ARMS! DEMON IN THE CAMP!"

Meanwhile my voidwalker was in the position to touch the second guard. The moment the hand of my minion reached the arm of the warrior, the man fell to the ground uttering. All of those who came in contact with Belmon started yammering about loneliness and a relentless chill, leaving me thankful that I had never touched that demon before.

By then voices arose from the tents nearest to the wall. "Protect the women and children! Attack the vile creature with everything you have!"

I still lay low and watched the situation. Out of a tent to the far right of the camp a man came out shouting "What is going here?"

The guards responded without a moment's hesitation, "Forgewright! A demon by the campfire! Quick! To arms!"

"A demon?" He asked in disbelief before turning around in search for his weapon.

"Found him..." I mumbled to myself as I then began closing in on my target.

He disappeared into his tent again so I had to hurry it up, I needed to get him be he retrieved his armor and weapons. My voidwalker still had all the attention from the guards giving me the opportunity to head over to the tent where this Forgewright guy seemingly was.

With a quick immolate spell I set the tent on fire without any further ado. I heard how he screamed from the inside because of the sudden fright. Immediately he came back running out of it, careful not to catch fire. Yet I had been too late for him anyhow, my shadow bolt was already flying straight towards him. With a direct hit to the face, he was taken down immediately. Not much left to do but to I hurry towards the dead body and collect the spoils after that.

Meanwhile guard after guard fell to the touch of my voidwalker and as they lay on the ground they lost most of their fighting spirit. I guess that ability worked somewhat similar to the spell 'Corruption' I used, meaning that if you have a strong spirit and a lot of willpower you will be able to just ignore this effect or at least weaken it. It's amusing how pathetic they all were.

As I reached the body of Forgewright, I felt sickness rising up in me. It was the first time I saw the brain of somebody, half of his skull was plainly missing. It left me wondering why ghouls always cried out for this mass and I couldn't even imagine how that batter should taste like anything.

Averting my eyes from his missing face I took the short sword lying next to the corpse and opened the chest with a few quick stabs and cuts. I had to get the heart out somehow after all. It took a while to get past the bones, but during the time I took my oversized voidwalker was still wreaking havoc in the camp. If you could call 'running around touching everybody so they fall to the ground wincing' wreaking havoc that is.

After a couple of broken ribs and me finally managing to obtain the heart of Forgewright, my robes had been completely drenched in blood. But not only that, I also had to carry that damned heart around... Without much of a choice I wrapped the bloody organ into a sheet of cloth that I ripped off from the clothing of the man and put it into one of my bags.

I was sure I would need a new one afterwards, two of these things bleeding all over my belongings...

The moment I had what I came for I backed away from the body again. They would find him or what was left of him soon enough. Whilst retreating I yelled towards Belmon that he should stop attacking and follow me. The humans at the gates were unable to follow me, most of them still rolling through the high grass imagining how they froze to death. Nevertheless I hurried to get to the road again and out of the Silverpine Forest. Yet this time I took the way towards the Hillsbrad Foothills.

Getting the second heart as ordered was almost nothing else but mere travelling. It is still hard to admit it but travelling with the imp had been far more fun. The little demon at least talked to you, the voidwalker on the other hand mainly silently somehow glided along, sometimes only uttering how beautiful the landscape could be if we would be in a dark cave or engulfed by constant darkness.

I don't know..., that creature just had something depressing about it.

It's hard for me to recall how long it took me to get to the northern wetlands, but it surely had to have been three or four days at least.

Anyhow I found this Villard person very quickly at a little camp right at the Thandol Span. He was constantly sobbing and going on about how cruel destiny had been to him in the last few months so he was fairly hard to miss. The things I overheard from him sounded incredibly self-centered to me, but well, who am I to judge. Just interested in getting what I had come fore I killed him anyway and collected his still beating heart from his body. Inwardly I hoped that the good will of offering two hearts would still do the trick, even if one should taste a bit bitterer than the other.

The next problem would be getting away from there. Hoping to get aboard a caravan or anything like that I headed north, fighting my way through the wild lands of the Arathi Highlands hoping to find that outpost of the Horde somewhere. I came passed a camp of trolls, but they weren't too friendly with me at all. Being on this trip for several days now I didn't want to give in to a fight, so I retreated while axes were flying past my head as a more or less poor warning.

Continuing my way to the north I drew closer to Hammerfall. Spotting the ridge in the distance I slowed down after I was sure that the trolls weren't following me anymore.

The name surely sounded like of an orcish encampment to me and after I had reached the road again this impression was amplified by the dead human bodies lying along it with axes stuck in their torsos. I mean, I heard that they were a rough kind of people, but that it would be this extreme...

Two orcish grunts were standing guard at the entrance to the camp. I was finally there, back amidst the settlements of the Horde, though calling it 'civilization' would be a bit farfetched. At least they didn't even bother offering me a strange look or something, as seemingly a lot of Forsaken come through there.

I was a bit surprised to find several trolls here as well, that was at least something I wouldn't have expected. I can't tell..., I just disliked those creatures. I tried to avoid them as good as I could... orcs and trolls. Dreadful things...

Eager to get back to Undercity I asked the first orc I saw whether here was something like a flightmaster or whatever you wanted to call it. Astonishingly friendly and quick he pointed me the way to the young orcish woman that kept watch over the animals of the outpost.

I dismissed my voidwalker, which was a relief for me too and booked a flight to Undercity.

She told me what I should watch out so that I didn't fall off the creature. After that explanation of hers I began wishing they would just tie me to the bat.

Those animals were surprisingly gigantic, I didn't know by that time that a common bat could grow this tall. Yet, on the other hand I know better by know and suppose some alchemists are most likely involved with this whole matter.

My hands slightly shaking I climbed onto the animal only reluctantly. It had a strong muscular structure, really impressive for a bat, as I supposed this would feel quite similar to sitting on a living horse.

The creature took off with a short start-up. The animal was pretty fast and a bit fluttery, but I loved it. Even with my numbed senses I could envisioned how I would have been. Feeling the wind on my face would have been surely something extraordinary. This was one of the few scarce moments that I really wished I would have been still alive.

It didn't take too long to reach the Undercity with this way of transportation. It was not the most comfortable one, in the end you were still only sitting on the bat, but that should be something you can, well, ignore for the moment.

After I had arrived in the city, I went directly to the mage quarters to tell of my success in obtaining the hearts of the two men I was sent out after. I entered the Temple of the Damned and greeted the members of the warlock guild with respect.

I didn't have to say a single word to Kaal, the trail of blood I left behind me said more than enough.

He led me outside of the building again where his apprentice already had prepared a runic circle similar to the one we had used for the voidwalker.

Kaal briefly instructed me, telling me what I had to do. He also took his time to warn me that a succubus is a very dangerous opponent and that she will probably fight in a different way than I might expect. For a final time he stressed that she will be a far stronger demon to fight than the voidwalker and afterwards he sent me into the middle of the summon circle, wishing me the best of luck.

Beginning the ritual I took the hearts out of my bag and placed them one by one inside the circle. Then Kaal started to speak in demonic again.

"_Theramas il zenn, parn xi amir. X nagas xi shi zila enkilzar. _(Mistress of pain, hear my call. I bring to you this oblation.)_" _

Meanwhile the apprentice of Kaal performed the spell to create a normal demon portal from the twisted nether breaching into this world.

A faint giggling could be heard as the portal to the demonic realm opened fully. It definitely had worked out the way it was supposed to. The hearts had attracted a succubus.

A beautiful woman with long black hair stepped out of the shadows lying beyond the portal. She glanced at us for only a moment before focusing her attention towards the hearts.

Her voluptuous body was squeezed into a tight leather bodice. Her skin had a milky toning, her eyes shining in a deep blue. Her appearance surely was stunning...

It took a moment for me to snap out of it again, she mesmerized me within an instance after leaving the portal. As she walked slowly towards the two hearts inside the runic circle, the image I had of her slowly took more demonic forms. Her legs ended in hooves and she had a long thin tail lashing out at the air. The color of her skin was actually a light purple. Two horns reached out of her forehead and two bat-like wings unfurled from her back. In her right hand she was bearing a whip, leaving open whether it was a weapon or more an accessory.

Nevertheless she still was stunningly beautiful even with these truly demonic features to her body.

The apprentice of Kaal also needed a moment to focus again, but he acted fast enough and closed the portal to the twisted nether again whilst the succubus was crouching down in front of the two hearts.

She jumped to her feet and turned around immediately upon this atrocity, her eyes showing fury and rage, drops of heart's blood running from her lips.

"_Maev? Kamil no X?_ (What? Where am I?)", her gaze was shifting from one person to another. _"Maev il lok toralar il zila archimtiros karkun?_ (What is the meaning of this, treacherous mortal?)", I still didn't understand everything she said, but slowly the words and sentences said in this language grew clearer to me.

I took a small step towards her, her eyes now fixed on me. "I demand to know your name, demon!" My voice may have been clear, but I was trembling somehow, yet it was not because of fear or anxiety.

"Shhh, how rude..." She responded to me in our language. Her voice was clear and had a mesmerizingly beautiful melody. It was hard not to fall for her instantly.

As she came closer towards me, even the way she walked was alluring.

Kaal and his student observed the scene, prepared to interfere if something would get out of hand. At least that was what I hoped.

Not that much of a fool I wanted to make a step backwards, but it was simply impossible. I didn't know what had happened but I was unable to move even an inch from one moment to another.

The succubus had closed in successfully and now stood directly in front of me. She was about as tall as I was so she could look into my eyes without giving it her any trouble.

I watched her every movement for a while, but quickly this watching turned into something else entirely... I couldn't take my eyes of her. Those sensual lips while she was talking to me, those hips swaying with every step, the breasts hidden behind the thing piece of leather cloth. I cannot even recall what she said to me or if she even said anything at all! My mind was being flooded with fantasies of all kinds. I barely saw how her lips began moving as the two of us were doing all kinds of things to each other's bodies in locations as twisted as her own demonic body.

An age seemed to have passed before I found myself again as I stood there just staring at her and she was still right where I had left her... Quickly she whirled around once in front of me, letting her whip fall to the floor. She was laughing in a high pitched voice while she did all of this. I guess she enjoyed it somehow.

She then began to slowly walk around me. Her arm stretched out, hovering above my chest. By then she stood to my left, my body was still paralyzed and I couldn't even move my head to follow her movements anymore.

She touched my chest with one finger and followed a lining on my tattered robe with it.

Her touch was pain. Every inch of my body she crossed with her finger was aching, it burned. It was a feeling far beyond anything I had ever experienced and not even my numbed senses would protect me from this.

She let her complete hand touch my shoulder, she even had the nerve to try and hide it away as an accident at first. But I did not care for that. I only wanted to scream out loud, to make room for the sudden pain, but my body wouldn't even do that. Her eyes were filled with pleasure upon seeing me tortured and overcome with agony like this.

I wondered for many months why Kaal didn't interfere at that point.

But something must have happened which I didn't understand at that time. Because there must have been something about me that she liked, that she greatly enjoyed maybe even loved in a strange kind of fashion, although I'm not sure whether it might have been simply the fact that I did not die instantly.

By then she stood behind me.

"_Shi mordanas modas?_ (You gathered those?)" She asked, whilst giving a short nod into the direction of the two hearts. She whispered those words into my left ear, careful not to touch me. I heard how she spoke in demonic, yet the thing she asked was astonishingly clear for me.

She took another two steps, by then she stood at my right ear.

"_Xi parn il... _(My name is...)_" _Lasciviously she breathed the words into my ear before commencing with the final part of her show.

She seized my right shoulder with her left hand. I felt the pain of her touching me immediately. She stepped in front of me again, drawing closer and closer towards me.

She pressed her body against mine, putting her right arm around me. Letting go of my shoulder she started to stroke my cheek with the back of her left hand.

Pain overcame me... it filled my mind up restlessly. I felt endless ache everywhere she touched me. It was as if death itself had chosen to creep up to me a second time. And I couldn't even scream. It felt as if I was torn apart just by her presence.

She kissed me.

I tasted blood, not sure if my own or still from the hearts I had gathered. The pain quickly became unbearable. But..., but this was not the time for me to die, not again!

Suddenly she let go of me and immediately backed off a few inches, yet only so far she wouldn't touch me anymore. I still was paralyzed otherwise I would have been hardly able to keep standing on my feet. She looked deeply into my eyes. I saw a strange glistening in them.

She drew a bit nearer to my ears again and whispered it to me.

"Darnys..."

She winked at me as she made another step backwards.


	23. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 7

_Chapter 7: _

Only a little while later we were all back inside the Temple of the Damned, my new demon close by my side.

I was sitting on a bench at a large table inside the general room of the warlock quarters with Kaal on the opposing side, carefully watching me and my freshly acquired pet.

It seemed we both were still somewhat unsure if that had been an actual fight against the succubus or not. But no matter what I had to admit, she was indeed an impressing one. She had paralyzed the great Kaal Soulreaper without even having to look at him. Of course that also made wonder whether he was really that much of a warlock, but doubt and backstabber-y seem to run deep with the Forsaken culture. And naturally he didn't confess any of it, but I was sure that it had been exactly that way from the moment on he proclaimed in with the trembling voice of a teacher that the things I had done were nothing short of reckless and incredibly dangerous.

As if I had had a choice or simply had done it out of fun and for the sole purpose of amusement...

The whole time were talking, Darnys had been lying on a large pile of pillows in a corner not too far away from us. She definitely liked the place and she didn't feel too out of it, but she kept a close watch over me. At least she didn't stare, but there was something peculiar about the looks she gave me every time our eyes met shortly.

She had been like this ever since the moment I broke free from her spell. Only moments after she backed away from me, the paralysis wore off and I just simply fell to the floor. Kaal's apprentice had to help me walk, so that I was able to even get into the temple somehow.

At that point she even gave me a kind of worried look, but as soon as I was able to keep my balance again she was basically all over me. She was such a strange creature..., I wasn't able to fully understand her reasoning and it would take me a good while before I even got only the slightest idea of how she thought.

Anyways..., everywhere she had touched me felt somehow numbed, not that I would have been able to feel too much anyhow but I was worse than that. It's hard to describe and it took quite a while for this effect to wear off. The first time she tried to touch me after having revealed her name to me I flinched. How should I know that she could control this aura of hers to such an extent that it wouldn't hurt me anymore? And even despite that I guess if she really had wanted to, she would have still been able to inflict pain upon me.

During the time we now had to wait, whilst I was resting; Kaal told me about the fourth and last demon I had to get if I wanted to become a warlock of skill, as he put it. He also mentioned how this would be the most difficult to overcome because the Felhunter, as this demon is called, feeds on magic and its users. I would have to fight in a very clever way and full of wit to bring down such a beast as someone who controls the nether to create magic of any sorts.

At one point when Kaal had still been talking on and on about something absurd, Darnys suddenly stood up and came over to us. Some warlocks would have probably seen this as an outrage that she acted on her own just like that. And even Kaal looked at me like he had been waiting for me to react. But honestly... if I really hadn't wanted her to do this, I probably just could have ordered her to leave me again or completely dismiss her to the demonic realm. Yet somehow at that point there was something utterly strange for me to even think about ordering her around like that. But on the other hand, she just came over and sat down onto the bench next to me... there's nothing wrong with that, is there?

She came as close to me as possible, lay her arms around me and rested her head on my shoulder. Again I flinched when she first touched me, but I realized relatively fast that it did not hurt at all.

Soon she was only breathing slowly, her eyes closed.

Kaal also had a sort of disbelieving look on his face when he saw her..., well, cuddling up with me.

But after only a short while of silence he couldn't keep his big green mouth shut any longer and started to talk again. This time providing me with actual useful information, he told me a few more things about the felhunter and the common whereabouts of these creatures.

The first thing I was told was that I would need the assistance of a strong warlock residing in Ratchet to be able to summon this demon. The idea of needing help from yet another stranger immediately put me off, but it would only get worse... I would apparently also need a special grimoire, the Tome of the Cabal, written long ago by warlocks associated with the Burning Legion. Concerning this I should talk to Jorah Annison on the other side of the moat in this quarter of Undercity. He should be able to help me out in this matter. Funny thing about this being how I didn't actually need this book as I was to find out later... It was a little extra Soulreaper added especially for me.

With still some time to spare after giving me the brief rundown of what I would have to do next, Kaal used the time I would still need to rest my oppressed body to start a bit of small talk.

He eagerly tried to find out more about me, the whereabouts of my origin, my former life and whatnot. But the first thing he started out with, was telling me how most people who called themselves warlocks weren't even able to summon three different demons. Most of them only had imps and even mostly only one of those at their side. He labeled them as try-hard's and impostors and I will second him on that part without having to think about it. Then he started to compliment me on how fast I had learned to control this almost limitless power thriving at my command, not to mention how quickly it grew on top of that. And you couldn't even deny it... I had easily obtained my first three demons in not even two weeks. He clearly stated that he had never met someone like me before.

At that time I still was a bit too astonished every time somebody talked about me like that, but it told me that I was still on the right way. Even the head of the warlock guild of Undercity acknowledged the progress I had made so far. And furthermore he told me, that after I had obtained the felhunter, he would teach me some of the stronger and more difficult spells. Those forbidden ones, which could easily kill you when performed wrong or without care.

The succubus by my side was still calm and quiet. I guessed she really fell asleep after a while, no matter the rambling orc going on about whatever he felt appropriate and important. Not sure what exactly drove me to do so but I lay my right arm around her, careful not to wake her up. I took it as kind of a reflex on my part.

Meanwhile Kaal began trying to question me. It was no secret that hardly anybody knew a thing about me. The only thing that everybody knew was the name Hector and that wasn't even right... But thinking about the Forsaken around me, I was quite sure that even Kaal wouldn't believe me if I ever told him my true name. Yet I seized the opportunity as it arose and tried to get rid of being called Hector at least. So it had been up to me to think of an alias and that as quickly as possible and what I came up with was the name Ceberus, still known today. It is a strong name in my opinion, easy to remember and yet concisely, not too hard on the tongue but also capable of striking fear to an opponent's heart.

So in the end, the Soulreaper wanted to get to know me better and all I did was giving him an alias as a new name. That was all that it came down to for him. I didn't tell him anything about myself, still in fear of what might happen if I would reveal too much of my former life. I didn't want to risk everything I had achieved to be stained with a hostile shade of scarlet.

Kaal seemed a bit disappointed by the outcome of our little talk and quite frankly, I can't blame him.

Shortly after we finally had ended our conversation, my succubus raised her head slightly and rested her chin on my shoulder. She looked at me with large drowsy eyes and stretched her arms and legs, her thin tail raised high up into the air for a few short moments. Then she noticed my arm on her back, offering me a lustful smile in return as she also winked at me. To be honest, I didn't really know how I should handle the situation, so I slowly took my arm away, but before I fully managed to do so she just started to embrace me on her own once again.

It took me a while to shake her off. And although she didn't seem too pleased with this final outcome, she accepted it like a good demon, at least for the moment. I wasn't sure but I assumed she just tried to make up for what she did to me earlier. And she did me good that time... I took a few days for me to regain even only the ability to walk more than three steps on my own. Not much left to tell about it, except that it had been terrible... but I saw through anyhow. There was no other choice for me and if you think about it, it was most likely worth it when thinking about Darnys.

Only once I had found myself able to walk in straight lines again I informed Kaal that I would begin with my assignment and as I said my brief farewell to him I already began making my way out of the temple. Yet before I had left, he reminded me that I should return to him here in Undercity if I would be successful, or at least still alive.

I was overly excited at that time. This would be the fourth and last demon I had to obtain before I was looked at as a skilled warlock. This all was occurring so fast, not wanting to call it 'too fast' though would surely be more fitting. It was as if my power was surging, growing steadily with every hour that passed.

The succubus by my side was skipping happily along while we walked towards the moat with the green fluid. Her sudden reaction then showed definite signs of being disgusted of it telling solely from the look she had on her face upon seeing it. I on the other hand just walked on towards the bridge being used to the sight of the green ooze by then. Darnys immediately seized the chance and linked arms with me as she had caught up to me again. She surely was a clinging demon..., no doubt.

I found the undead called Jorah inside the bookstore of Undercity. Actually it was more like a small library the way it had been set up but well, he was a map maker by profession and most of the literature he had in his store was about geography. I decided to skip the unnecessary intro and asked him directly about the folio which I needed. He wasn't too surprised that someone was interested in the book and besides, the warlock guild already had given him a heads up on me coming around sooner or later. The folio I sought was what he called a piece of great fell literature.

There never were too many copies of it, but after about three copies, all in different places in Azeroth, were lost or destroyed, the elders of Stormwind tried to preserve at least one of the books in the foolish desire to preserve even the most dangerous knowledge. And as the wheels of fate turned they actually found out where one of these transcriptions was located they eagerly started making plans on how to best retrieve it. This paper treasure of old had been spotted within the depths of Jaedenar, home to the cultists of Felwood in the north of Kalimdor. A group of hired mercenaries, not knowing what the book they were searching for was worth or even about, fought their way into the deepest caverns of the Shadow Council... They suffered severe losses, but nevertheless two of them were able to retrieve the book.

In the meantime one of the human elders had been talking to a dwarven friend of his. That man was such a blunt idiot, giving such a secret away in the broad of daylight over a mug of ale, because of something as idealistic as friendship... Only mere hours later the elders of Ironforge sent message to Stormwind that in the name of their ongoing alliance they wanted a share on the folio. But the humans refused to make another copy of it, knowing only too well of the power the dwarves would have if they had the full text in their tiny hands with the stubby fat finger if they should come to be aware of the items meaning.

So the human elders decided to rather have the book rendered, to vandalize it by ripping out little more than two thirds of the pages. This was still done be the mercenaries, for in Ashenvale the two survivors were told that they should split up and deliver the two parts to different people. One of them was supposed to go to Auberdine, a small elven harbour north of their position and take a ship to the city of Menethil, from there on he would be escorted to Ironforge. The other one was to undertake a trip to Gadgetzan far off in the south and at the little harbour there take the ship to Stormwind.

Yet none of the two ever reached their destinations.

The one travelling to Ironforge with the tome and only a rough third of the text boarded the ship to Menethil as he was ordered, yet the ship was lost along the shore of the Hillsbrad Foothills not too far from here. The rumors say the ship was attacked by a large group of murlocs for unknown reasons. It is up to the gutter to tell stories about the connection to the book. There were supposedly only one or two survivors of the attack, none of which ever to be met.

The other mercenary with the tied up rest of the folio joined a caravan heading for Gadgetzan. Unluckily they were attacked by a group of raging centaurs while passing through the area known as Thousand Needles.

"It is a pity to lose such a piece of great and powerful literature in such a pathetic way..." Jorah shook his head while saying these words. The story behind this book was quite interesting, I believe even my succubus had listened in carefully on it.

I knew that I would have no choice but to retrieve both parts of the book on their own... The Forsaken standing in front of me would surely have paid a good amount of gold for the folio. Yet it quickly came back to me how I should rather keep my thoughts focused on getting it because of the felhunter.

I wondered if I was the only warlock that had to go through all this trouble for his demons... I didn't know too much but it somehow felt strange nevertheless. Little did I know...

By doing this I paved the way for countless other warlocks to come. Yet on the other hand, by doing it this way I also was able to determine my strength, I could even make a name for myself. Yet even despite my high hopes, I never got the credit for my deeds...

After thinking about it for a while, a certain motivation was rising up in me.

I followed the advice of Jorah and decided to travel to Hillsbrad first I had to go to Ratchet anyway later on. That would be first time I went to Kalimdor.

Jorah left me with a somewhat strange farewell by saying 'Tread lightly warlock, these kinds of stories tend to repeat themselves', but I headed off anyhow. As I gathered a small amount of supplies from the local stores the anticipation started to rise up. Darnys was openly enjoying the fact how my mood started to heighten and also began smiling at me more often even though I ignored most things she did or said. I was too focused on getting everything going.

Luckily for me the bat transport was at work again, which would speed up everything by a lot.

This animal had a much steadier style of flying than the creature I had last time, although I was almost kicked from its back once when it suddenly flew straight down towards the ground for a few seconds. It took me about twenty minutes to half an hour to get from Undercity to Tarren Mill, at least I think so. You easily lose track of time on the backs of those bats if you ask me.

Upon arriving I didn't bother with asking the inhabitants of the village about the book, I just assumed they wouldn't know anything about it anyhow...

It was quickly out of the question that any other demon would accompany me on my quest other than Darnys, so she would be the one taking the place at my side this particular time. I still easily recall how I thought of her company as a mere pleasantry despite any of her rather obvious hints. Yet there were things more important to me and without doubt would her presence only yield advantages compared to the other two possible choices, both of which would surely have only complained about the landscape being either not dark enough or too stretched out to walk all the way.

But even with all things considered retrieving the tome from the murlocs would soon turn out far more difficult than I had initially expected.

I made my way to the coast and as soon as I had finally reached the coastline I found myself basically standing right in the middle of a murloc kingdom. The beach was swarming with those ugly, noisy, fishlike creatures. Their scales glistening brightly under the sun's rays due to strange mucus forming on their skin, my succubus only dared to look at them with great disgust.

They might have looked like simple stinking animals, but I was well aware of how they were far more than just that...

And still I made the mistake to attack blindly without consideration of a special tactic. The first one of them fell instantly, the wretched creature died from the first shadow bolt and my lack of mercy. Yet it still could call out for help. And even though their language may only consist of gargling sounds, the social network of murloc's has developed extremely far.

Upon the sound of the dying scream, 'Aaaaaughibbrgubugbugrguburgle!' six murlocs came racing towards me with spears clutched in their slimy hands, ready to kill any intruder of their lands.

I tried to take out as many of them as quickly as I could with my Corruption spell and other curses, yet even though the effect of Corruption seemed to be amplified if I compared it with the usual effect it had on humanoid creatures, most of the murlocs just simply ignored most of my casts.

For a sole moment they seemed unstoppable as a strange form of doubt crept up on me.

As soon as I had let my guard down for even only a second one of the creatures had been able to reach me and my demon. It jumped directly at us the moment it came in range to do so. Startled by this sudden turn of events I was unable to react and its teeth dug deep into the undead flesh of my right arm as a punishment for my imprudence. As the jaw of the little monster began crushing even my bones Darnys luckily came to my aid still in time. One aimed strike with her whip and the bite of the murloc loosened. Yet the real horror was still to come...

As the one of them fell to the ground without further movement, I heard it again, but this time twice...

"Aaaaaughibbrgubugbugrguburgle!"

Two of the injured ones, which had endured my spells to the very ends, cried out loud. A feeling of fear concerning what might ascend from the sea before me took hold of me quickly, but was shaken of as nothing happened at first. Carefully my eyes scanned the area, but all I could see were the murlocs that had already tried to attack me and I didn't notice anything suspicious about those either. But yet again would my unaware have almost been my downfall for only moments later I could already hear them. At least thirty of those damnable creatures would be here in not even a minute to come. I had no choice but to retreat. So Darnys and I fled from the shore and up into the hills again.

Luckily enough none of them followed us.

But worst of all was that I had to solve two problems now instead of only one. First of all, I had to still find out where the book could be and secondly how to get rid of the little murloc army down there at the coast, only waiting for me to come out again so they could take another bite. Hiding behind a couple trees still rather close by I took the newly found time to think about the situation and soon came up with something concerning the newly acquired second of my problems. I wondered whether the touch of my voidwalker would have the same effect on murlocs as it had on humans.

Searching the book would still be difficult enough I figured, but I had to get it somehow... so I might as well try... The whole murloc tribe was alarmed and ready to attack me as soon as an opportunity arose for them. Those dumb creatures didn't know what they were getting into... I just wanted that one old rest of a book and I'd be gone again, but no they had to go all-out war on my... And I didn't think that they would want to kill me either because of hunger. I assumed they didn't eat undead flesh, even though my frail hopes that they could have been vegetarians had been destroyed the moment when I had seen their fangs for the first time.

Not to mention their slimy skin, their gazing almost lifeless eyes and their razor-sharp fangs and claws.

God, how I began to hate murlocs on that day...

By sheer coincidence I spotted the folio fast, even from the hills above of the coast already. Well sort of at least... I only saw something gleaming in one of the huts of the murlocs in the distance, not too far away from the little army awaiting my return. They were still standing there on the look-out for me.

Now for the more troublesome and annoying part of my plan I had to explain to Darnys that I would need the aid of my voidwalker for a while and that I was not strong enough to support them both in this world at my side. The expression on her face darkened immediately, not even because of anger, but of something that looked strangely like sadness.

At first she really didn't want to go, she would have probably done almost anything in return so she could stay with me but after a while I was able to convince her. And all in all it could have gone a lot quicker... the only thing I had to tell her was that afterwards I would summon her again right away. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She said with her last words before she slipped through my loosened guard and kissed me on the cheek just a second before she left to the demonic realm.

I often wondered what the reason behind her strong affection towards me was. We had barely known each other for a few days and yet she had been clinging on to me from the very first moment on. What was her motive behind all of this? I know as much that there are those warlocks keeping such demons for their own fleshly pleasures - glorified sex-slaves in other words, but I had none of those intentions. Maybe that was why she was so interested in me? Did she try to conquer my cold rotten heart like in a badly written fairy-tale? Or was it that she felt the limitless potential slumbering deep inside me? Yet this would have also meant that she had been aware of the fact that she would never have been able to turn things around on us. She would have never been able to control me... and I already knew that succubi seemed rather fickle minded when it comes down to their loyalties. After all not everything told in rumors or old bed-time stories is made up...

With a loud moaning sound my voidwalker stepped into this realm and to my side. He looked around in disgust... everything was so colorful and bright. I supposed he would have a lot of fun with the murlocs. He would surely come to love them as they all had their bright green or violet scales with a red toning scattered out randomly over their bodies.

Mustering up the courage to continue, me and my voidwalker approached the beach again. I know fully well that the word courage might be overly exaggerating things but I reckon it would serve as most fitting for the situation I'm trying to describe.

Anyhow, I was left with nothing else but to pray that this hit and run tactic would work out how I imagined it to. At the time I still didn't know a single spell that could deal with a larger amount of enemies – like the murlocs – all at once. So the only thing I could do was to order my voidwalker to attack the murlocs straight forward. And they fell for my trap... The moment they saw my demon emerge from the hills they charged at it. In the same moment I started to run down to the beach myself.

Luckily, it worked out rather nicely. Every murloc my voidwalker touched with its hands fell into the warm sand shivering. Yet it seemed my luck came to an unsuspected end.

Aaaaaughibbrgubugbugrguburgle!

About five of the murlocs suddenly cried out for help, ignoring that they should be downed and unable to do anything but breed on their own uselessness. I guess they never thought that far... And just as I had come to the opinion that the whole murloc attack squad must have been rallied around that blue bulb called Belmon, but no, from the far east and the far west of the beach dozens more of the fish-eyed creatures came running towards me. Their only goal: to rip me to shreds... It was unbelievable how fast those murlocs could be.

No more time to waste! I had to hurry things up.

As soon as I reached the murloc hut the reinforcements of the little murloc army had almost arrived. I grabbed the book blindly as there hadn't been even enough time for me to check whether it really was the one I had been searching for.

The first few creatures were already close enough to start leaping at me. I desperately tried to keep them away from me by casting Corruption and Immolate spells on them, though I soon realized that the latter of the two was more or less useless. The number of murlocs around Belmon also didn't diminish, they recovered way too fast for him, or he was simply too slow... either of those would work.

The moment I came running passed the voidwalker I ordered him to follow me immediately up the hill and away from the shore.

If we only got away far enough, the murlocs wouldn't follow us anymore, I hoped, believing strongly in the most common of rumors concerning them. They are to be bond to the water in a kind of way our kin could not imagine. Their skin desiccates quite fast and most of the murlocs that were following us right now hadn't been in water for quite a while now. This would probably be my only chance to get away with all limbs still attached.

Slowly, but constantly the number of pursuing murlocs was growing thinner as I ever so slowly drew nearer to the high mountains of Alterac. And as I had finally reached the road even the last and most stubborn murlocs had given up and returned to their homestead - the coast.

By then for the first time I had the chance to look at the book I held in my arm. I opened it up slowly afraid of what I might find out about its content. Seeing how most of the text was written in Eredrun I felt incredible relief. Just as I had hoped in the middle of it pages were missing, so this actually could be the book I had been searching for. I quickly decided it was not worth the trouble to go back and look for any other folios that just happened to be there. I would take the risk of having the wrong one and just started to make my way back towards Tarren Mill.

I just hate those freaking murlocs.

Something that was unusual though was how the animals in this area started attacking me for no reason at all. I had no to only little problems dealing with the mountain lions or bears around there, but they usually avoided me completely either because they sensed that I was stronger to begin with or I simply wasn't on their menu. So it seemed the book turned out somewhat dangerous after all... driving the local wildlife insane enough to start nibbling on undead flesh.

Anyways I had to focus on the tasks at hand and to do that I had to change continents first and foremost of all. The closest and most likely also fastest way to get to Kalimdor from here would be traveling by airship. I saw the tower standing tall where they dock already on my way from Brill over to the ruins of Lordaeron. Kaal also had me filled in on the goblin airships connecting the Undercity with the orcish capital Orgrimmar. He also made note that it would be fairly dangerous, but it definitely the fastest means of transport and beat any ship by several days. Only thing else he put special emphasis on was not to let my valuable by lying around openly. I didn't worry too much about any of this and my mind was made up quickly, besides... there never really had been a choice to make.

After arriving in Undercity again, I dismissed my voidwalker and summoned Darnys back to my side. I had given her a promise after all. And as soon as she stepped forth from the twisted nether she immediately clutched on to me again, fairly happy to see me alive and well, though she also appeared somewhat miffed to me. I've never fully stopped questioning her behavior, but I also have to state one thing... and just to make it clear - I was always the warlock and she remained to only be my demonic slave...

Now with my next destination set as it would be the valley called Thousand Needles, I only had a rough idea where that would be. So... it was only logical for me to head back over to the cartographer in Undercity and get a map of the whole continent as long as I still had the chance.

It appeared would take me quite some time to get there from Orgrimmar. It was a good way down south, but maybe if I'd be lucky enough the orcs might have sported similar way of transport like the Forsaken had with their trained bats.

After gathering every necessary I'd need to take along for the trip we left Undercity only a couple of hours later and boarded the airship docking on to the tower. The goblins up there somehow reminded me of my imp.

They were almost equally small, their voices high pitched and most of them were complaining and nagging constantly. With the similarities obvious like this I wondered if the two races might have been far relatives to each other. I felt the urge to ask one of the green little buggers about it, but ultimately I refrained from doing so slightly wary of the trip to come.

The flight itself took about a day or a half. The ocean itself is huge on its own yet we also took a slight detour to the coast of Northrend because of a giant storm right in the center of it all. The crew of the ship called that area the Maelstrom. I for my part had only heard rumors about that place so far and could hardly fathom what raw power and threat lay bare at the core of our world.

And quite frankly it is still hard for me to believe how that place - the center of the known world even; now lying in the middle of the ocean - was once supposed to be the home of the nightelves and the Well of Eternity connecting the two continents we live on now. The sheer amount of land dragged down into the deeps as the well erupted, shattering the old world asunder... In other, shorter words: the tale of queen Azshara.

But I didn't spend all my time on the airship with idle thoughts of pointless history. I used the time well trying to learn as much about the demonic language Eredrun as possible. I simply ordered Darnys to talk to me in demonic for a while, letting her translated only the words I hadn't understood the first time afterwards. And soon enough I felt no pain anymore when hearing the language. And as I grew more fluent in understanding the wretched syllables began growing on me. I can't tell how much I influenced my fellow travelers on this trip but quite obviously I didn't have the time to concern myself with my lowly surrounding and the well-being of those who might were listening in on me. Their bleeding ears would be punishment enough for meddling with things far beyond their understanding.

If you don't know too much about it, it might be hard to believe that the language of the demons is actually in a way rather poetic compared to our own if you take the time and translate the rough and cruel sounding words that are used.

After we had finally arrived in Kalimdor I took the time to have a look around the city of Orgrimmar. The city itself was huge enough though surely on par with the Banshee Queen's realm, it had been built into a canyon and the entrances were heavily fortified.

As we passed through the surprisingly ill guarded main gate, we entered the wide and open market district of the orcs. Vendors, taverns and a giant bank formed the center of Orgrimmar, the Valley of Strength as it was called in their barbaric tongue. A large tower right behind the large hut in the middle completed the scene.

I personally didn't like the style of the city too much as I'd prefer Undercity in every aspect, yet I still took my time and looked around for a while. You never know what you might find in such a place and even a pig can hide treasure.

In the northeast of this part of the city a long and dark alley led to the Valley of Wisdom, where also the hall of the Warchief was situated. As I blindly followed my intuition I turned left into a small chasm with a way descending into a strange mist.

Looking around in this little cave, I spotted summoning circles everywhere around me accompanied by orcs in long robes following their studies of dark arts and forbidden magic. As I rightfully assumed I had found the Orgrimmar warlock guild just then. It should be fairly easy to remember where to find them judging from the looks of the place.

But as I found nothing to gain from the green-skins I continued my excursion through the city by following the crude signs to the Valley of Wisdom. I had no interest in meeting the Warchief of the orcs, but I wanted to have a look at his residence and after all, it should be one of the most important parts of the city. And you never know when you might need such information.

I always envisioned the Warchief would be living inside a small palace, but then I found myself standing in front of just another normal orcish stronghold. It was quite let down to be honest but well..., on the other hand, I should have expected as much...

Yet something else quickly caught my attention and not only due to Darnys. In front of the little complex Thrall was hiding the orcs had assembled something I would call a statue of a giant demon – a ragged and strange monument. Wondering who or what this demon once was I noticed my succubus shivering at my side, her tail right between her legs. Truly a sight I have never thought to witness.

Darnys did her best not look at it turning away from the pile of bones. Reaching around her back and holding on to her shoulder, well aware she would enjoy it and hopefully loosen up a bit I asked her what was wrong.

"His eyes...", She stumbled as her voice was trembling. I looked at the monstrous skull, but couldn't see anything at all.

My arm still around her she pressed herself against me for another moment before she started pushing onwards. No doubt about it, how she wanted to leave this place, but I on the other hand had learned something valuable... I knew that those bones where keeping a secret from the world, a secret tightly locked away and still to be unveiled.

Moving onwards we came past another large hall as we drew nearer to the Valley of Spirits. We were fairly high up by then, probably the same level as the top of the tower with a rope bridge connecting both. To my own surprise I had a look over the edge of this little cliff inside the city and it suddenly dawned on me how I had not even noticed that we had gone up this high.

But more importantly after crossing the shacking bridge, on the top level of the tower in the city's center I found what I had been searching for since we had arrived here, something similar to the bats of the Forsaken. Only difference being that they used a strange, wretched animal, something I had never seen before. The orc in command called it a Wyvern or Windrider for the common folk. It had the body and the head of a lion with two large fangs reaching out of its mouth, wings like a bat and a tail that reminded me of a scorpion.

I dismissed Darnys as soon as I had the information needed, confirming how this thing would be able to carry me to where I wanted to go. As usual I told her that I would call for her as soon as I had arrived in Thousand Needles. She gave me the same sad look as always, but quickly agreed upon seeing the strange thing I would take to get down there. What a funny animal indeed if even a demon looked at it as awkward. As soon as Darnys stepped back into the twisting nether be both embarked on our paths.

The flight with the Wyvern took me through the area in central Kalimdor called the barrens. Only a few oases disrupt the constant wasteland and gave it a bit more color. That area was huge and it took ages to get through it, even though this mount I found myself own soared through the skies far faster than the bats of Undercity. I don't even want to imagine how long it would have taken me if I had decided to travel by foot...

I flew past an orcish war-camp as well as a tauren one later on. To the west lay the lush green planes of Mulgore, home of the giant bovines called Tauren... I suppose that area was a far more pleasant place to live in compared to Durotar or the barrens, maybe even Tirisfal.

As I finally reached the south end of the barrens I saw a kind of elevator from high above, finest tauren architecture. I've never understood how these things worked if I'm completely honest with you. They appear to not use any rope at all. Probably some form of magic I don't grasp, but assumingly far simpler than I would imagine. But well, I did not waste too much time thinking about that either...

The moment I entered Thousand Needles I understood for the first time why it was called that way. The Wyvern flew rather close the ground at that time making the large stone pillars everywhere appearing as an even more miraculous thing to see. On the other hand, you quickly start to hate the place if you have to travel through all of it as often as I had to. At the bottom of the valley the vile centaurs have their domain, additionally to that the Grimtotem tribe of the Tauren also have an outpost on some of the pillars too. Unfortunately they are not too friendly with members of the Horde, so they attacked me the moment they saw me riding on that Windrider. Luckily for me the Wyvern knew the way it had to go and I guess the creature was already used to the spears these tauren threw at us, it dodged them all with ease.

Only few pillars later it began to slow down, preparing for the landing. I recognized the huts early on top of the plateau early, all of them bearing the symbol of the Horde with falls pride.

We landed safely in the middle of a small tauren settlement. They welcomed me with open arms, making me wonder why they were so happy to see me. But for the moment I simply assumed they didn't have too many visitors around there. From this point onwards the searching would begin anew therefore I went ahead and asked one of the inhabitants of the camp where I would find the closest centaur settlement. They had it... I knew as much and quickly figured any of those places would do to start off from. Eventually I'd find the right cave, even if I had to slaughter my way through all of their little settlements. Fortunately at least the first of those was just up north from the point where I was. The tauren also showed me the elevator and told me that I would just have to pass through the two stone pillars directly in front of me and then I would find myself right in the middle of the centaur camp. He asked me why I wanted to go there, but I was quick to turn down his question and simply told him that this was none of his business. At least he was no idiot – he accepted what I said without any further questioning...

Eager and now after having been pointed into a direction I stepped onto the left of the two elevator platforms which would take me down the side of the pillar. Those things are quite fast if you're on them, however, if you're forced to wait for them to come up to you? You'll find yourself usually standing in front of the one arriving later. But you also don't want to go over to the other one because you are standing on a long wooden runway hovering in mid-air because the elevators are always in a fair distance to the surface of the upper level. Freakish tauren architecture...

As I had then finally reached the bottom level of the valley, I took a look around where I would have to go. That steak on two legs up there hadn't been joking... the centaurs had a large settlement right behind those pillars that I was standing up front of me at that moment, only a couple of meters away from this camp of the horde. Risky admittedly, but both sides seemed to be able to hold each other at bay good enough...

Everything clear around me I summoned Darnys back to my side as I had promised to her earlier. She greeted me a bit too friendly for my liking that time and flung her arms right around my neck without warning. She said something on the likes of how glad she was to see me, but I could already imagine again how she formed the words 'What took you so long?' with her beautiful, perfect lips.

I passed through the stone pillars first, my succubus close behind me. A small ridge of spears formed a kind of wall that you could bypass far too easily. They didn't even try...

But for now I mainly had no idea where I would have to search for the rest of the folio... So I simply did the thing I had to do, I started killing my way through their encampment. I guessed somebody of the tauren would approve of that idea too.

The stench of those four-legged things dying around me was unbelievable even for my numbed senses, flies everywhere forming whole swarms in the air. I was quite sure that no one on this planet would miss a single one of these dreadful creatures.

One after the other fell to my various spells. They were no match for me nor my magic by any means. A single shadow bolt ripped their bodies in two, leaving nothing but a bloody mess of spilled guts behind to collect. Darnys didn't even attack a single one of them. Although I have to admit, I never ordered her to do so. She looked a bit annoyed by this lack of commands, which I was in fact too though due to entirely different reasons. These creatures, so tall and such a thick skin, yet they all turned so fragile and feeble before me as I passed my judgment of strength.

After a while most of the centaurs that had still been left fled the camp as fast as they could. I was sure a couple of them would remember my name and try to seek revenge for their tribe. But what should I say? It's not that I would care about it at all now. Well, even at that time I couldn't have cared less about them. I could have easily obliterated all of them as they fled in panic with a sole gesture of my hands. Vermin...

The fact that the hoofed ones had left did not make it that much easier for me to search for the text. I could not find it in any of the huts around me. I began wondering if they really could have been so foolish to take it with them, to make me to their hunter... Or maybe it was hidden somewhere else? As I asked myself these questions Darnys tipped my shoulder. I turned around to her as she was pointing at the stone wall in front of us.

"I sense a demonic presence in there..." She whispered, careful to keep her voice as low as she could.

I immediately knew I should investigate that, but how to get in there? There seemed to be no entrance to a cave anywhere around us... So nothing else left to do we started following the wall of the cliff for a while to the east and to my own surprise we really stumbled upon something that looked like a badly hidden cavern.

If that demonic presence really should turn out to be the text I was searching for then the centaurs probably were worshipping it like an old god. I already knew good enough that this book was dangerous enough on its own but that it was able to attract and influence the simple and small minded creatures like this was a bit disturbing, even for me.

Without too much care we entered the newly found cave. Quite honestly we turned around into the first stone corridor we came across not exactly knowing where would have to go, only following Darnys' intuition. The whole cave was lit with torches standing basically in every corner one would fit. To our right another way opened up into a somewhat larger circular room filled with spears. On every one of them a head of a fallen enemy was reminding of his or her defeat. I saw the heads of orcs and humans, tauren and trolls alike. Even one or two elves had fallen to the centaur. I didn't see a single one of the Forsaken and I was sure at that time, they wouldn't get mine for their collection. A nice idea for a monument but I hardly could appreciate after such a display of the weakness.

We turned away from the chamber with the spears and followed the corridor leading deeper into the cave again. It ended sooner than I had expected as we reached a large cave with a small lake in its middle. Two fiercely looking centaurs were guarding a chest in between two more torches, yet those with bright blue flames crackling fiercely. An omen maybe? But in the end it matters not... I knew I had to get into the chest though. Something inside of me eagerly spilled its secrets.

I did not care about the two centaurs in the slightest. None of them would prove to be a worthy opponent of me, just like the rest of their clan, tribe or whatever they called it. One of the two went up in flames due to my immolate running off screaming like the wretched thing he was, jumping head first into the small lake and the second one was hit in the chest by my shadow bolt, leaving an almost circular hole right in its middle. The creature fell to the ground, blood fleeing from the wound. I thought of the one centaur behind me in the lake and cast a curse of agony on him before turning to the more... pressing matters. The screams of those creatures are gruesome to ones ears. From that day on I tried to remember to never cast this spell on one of them ever again.

The chest was opened quickly and feeling success I took the withered pages of the folio. If I think about it, it was all terribly easy. The murlocs of Hillsbrad at least had put up a fight...

Happily I took the tome out of my bag and put the missing pages inside the almost empty hull. Afterwards I put it away again, storing it for the right moment when it would emerge from its slumber.

The way out of the cave and the centaur encampment at a whole was nothing but boring... there were no enemies left anyhow. The only strange thing was a group of hyenas attacking me as soon as we had reached the road outside. I dealt with them quick and efficiently before taking the elevator back to the top of the stone pillar. Just as I reached the small encampment up there, the guards started all looking at me with mistrust, even anger. I could not imagine why their attitude had changed this much since I had left them only a few hours ago. Besides..., I had done them a great favor, hadn't I?

One of the elders came out of his tent and walked up towards me. I'd call him bold or bland now, but I was still an apprentice, though far more capable than any other before me even during that moment. He stopped several feet in front of me as if he didn't dare to tread any closer and said something on the likes of: "I don't want to be too unfriendly as you have fought many centaurs today and probably erased a threat to our little settlement up here... yet, you carry something more vile with you than the demon by your side. And we cannot tolerate to have it in our midst even for only a short time. You will have to leave immediately!"

His voice was gentle and his words were as polite as they could be for an old geezer. I nodded silently and turned to the Wyvern behind me after dismissing Darnys again. She gave the elder a sharp look for me the moment before she left to her realm. I guessed she didn't like how I was treated there, though it only hasted my trip and that clearly was a good thing. Despite all the good thinking, on that day I learned that someone like me, dealing with demonic magic would never have too many friends around.

The young tauren who was taking care of the Windriders and who greeted me so friendly, at first refused to give me one of his beloved, untainted animals to get to Ratchet at first. Yet the elder was swift to convince him, probably he told him that this would be the only way to get rid of me as fast as possible.

There I was, alone again... yet this time, I was strong and I knew how to gain more power. How to make use of my gift...

The flight to Ratchet surprisingly didn't take too long all in all, at least when compared to the lengthy travel south. And this time we didn't even need to pass the Grimtotem Tauren at the entrance to Thousand Needles and dodge their spears, instead we flew directly to the north. By taking this way we passed a swamp area called the Dustwallow Marshes. The Wyvern flew along close to the coastline as we passed a large human stronghold on our way. Later I was to find out that this was the famous city of Theramore, led by the noble lady Jaina Proudmoore. All these titles of false heroism...

After leaving the marshes behind, the city of Ratchet was already close by.

The Windrider sped up and we reached the town after about five more minutes. Ratchet was a goblin city like any other... corrupt and most of all volatile. I don't like these obnoxious green bastards one bit, their only concern lies with money, money and even more money. They sell their fighting ability and their technological advance to the highest bidder without any questions asked. And even for the small info about the warlock residing in their midst they wanted to charge me. It's a shame. I paid the goblin the gold he wanted so I could just go on quickly, but not without tipping him a small curse on the side...

Anyways I was told the man I sought lived just outside town in a tower built up on a hill overlooking the area, as the goblin pointed past me. I turned around and saw the tower. I bit my tongue in anger to have paid five gold to a goblin for this little piece of information, but he got what he deserved in the end.

Nevertheless I found my way up there quickly. You just had to turn right immediately after leaving the city, not even involved any hiking to be done. I summoned Darnys on my way over there as the feeling started to grow on me that it would be good to show up with a strong demon by my side.

As I drew nearer to the tower I already saw a man standing in front of it.

"I was awaiting you." He announced in a clear voice but all I could muster up for him was a gaze of open disbelief. "Well, did you expect me not to notice you while carrying such a dangerous artefact? I felt your presence the moment you put the text into the tome. The demonic energy of the folio is tremendous and far too dangerous for our realm. There are many ways to summon a Felhunter, the way you took is definitely the most daring and probably ... the most foolish one. But for congratulating you it is still too early. We will see of what you are capable of soon enough." Anger rose up in me upon hearing those words. The man on the other hand ignored my growling and casually pointed inside the open building. "Now please, Kaal has sent note to me about you, yet it seems even he underestimated your speed. My name is Strahad Farsan, me and my apprentices will assist you in summoning the creature you seek to control." He made a short pause as three young female orcs were setting themselves up, each of them taking a precise position inside a large summoning circle.

" Be careful apprentice, by using this book to summon a demon form the twisted you will definitely reach deeper into its layers to summon something stronger and more powerful than with any other methods. Who knows what you might pull out of the portal? Be fates guest... for now..."

At least having taken this way had its advantages. The warlock was brief with his explanations and directly went on to the summoning of the demon I wanted. He told me to step right into the middle of the drawings on the floor and read the summoning from the book when he gave me the sign to do so. Easy enough I figured.

The summoning circle beneath my feet was a lot more difficult than the ones I had seen so far, actually I believe it was rather two circles entwined then just plainly one.

The old man then started talking in demonic, reciting bits and pieces of an old incantation, the three apprentices quietly focusing on the creation of a portal to the demon world. Normally these portals were somewhat more circular with edges moving like flames. But this one? It was different. The old warlock gave me the instruction to read the lines from the book. The moment I did so a black hand rose from the ground and hovered at the height of my face. As I went on reading aloud the color of the hand turned to a dark violet and it started to split up into six smaller ones. The fingers were all connected in one point and then they slowly drifted apart leaving a dark area behind them.

So this was a portal to the demonic realm that even I could step through... It was tempting to have look through it, even only a short one..., but I had to go on reading the lines from the folio if I wanted my forth minion. Darnys was still standing outside the tower only glancing past the entrance door into the portal. She was clearly afraid of something.

"_X alar maev ur rikk nagas! _(I will feed on your magic!)_" _I heard no voice but someone had just spoken to me, just as if the words were coming directly from my own thoughts.

Then something jumped out of the portal passed me at a high velocity. I turned around immediately, the portal closing behind me. So this was a felhunter. It looked a bit like the demon form of a dog or a wolf, still it was totally different. Its whole body was covered with scales glistening in a bloody red tone, only a few parts of the creature covered up something resembling pitch black fur. The feet of the demon were sole claws, no paws anything like that. Two giant horns came out of the shoulders of the creature, each of them easily equally long as my arms. Two black tentacles came out of the back of its head pointing directly towards me. The head of the felhunter was slim and rather long with a mouth filled with giant sharp teeth, hardly even fitting in. The only thing I really could not make out on this creature were its eyes. Did it even have some?

I demanded that it should tell me its name just like with any other demon, but received no response at all.

Instead it charged directly at me. The demon was fast, agile and swift. I heard how the warlock behind instructed his students to keep out of this fight at all costs, a slight distraction I should not have given in to.

I used the spare seconds I had to cast an Immolate and a Corruption spell on the demon before I had to dodge it. Yet the felhunter only opened his mouth one or two times and I heard his voice is my head again, "_Kanrethad..._(Delicious...)_"_

I ordered Darnys to attack it from behind. And she did as she was told but the hits with her whip hardly did anything to the monstrosity. It didn't even care about the succubus standing behind him, or it, or whatever...

Taking a more direct approach again I sent a shadow bold flying towards the demon's head. It hit it directly in the face, but... not even a scratch caused by the impact. Any normal creature would have died instantly after receiving such a pointblank hit. Even the old warlock looked surprised, seemingly it should have done at least a little bit of damage. Growing unsure I asked myself what fiend I had called upon.

But the demon left me little to no time to think at all and charged right at me again, this time I couldn't avoid the full hit, one of his claws scratched my arm. It hurt incredibly for whatever reasons it stimulated such pain. It was almost as if his claws were able to create an effect equal to the curses I used on my lesser foes.

I had to think of something quickly, my magic wouldn't work on the creature, and neither would the magic of Darnys and there was no way to ask the old man for help if I wanted to keep this pet... But luckily I came up with something on the fly the moment my eyes grazed the tower again. As I saw the building in front of me I knew what I had to do. It would prove to be quite a gamble, but I had to take my chances if I wanted to get this demon under control.

So I ran back into the building, right into the middle of the summoning circle. The demon was quick to follow me just as I had hoped it would. It probably saw me more as a meal than anything else.

I used the few moments I had to send a shadow bolt flying to the ceiling above me, it pierced through the wall slightly below it, letting it rain down some smaller stones. As I prepared the second shadow bolt the demon took me down, but I could still send it flying to the ceiling. Unfortunately it hit the other side of the wall also close beneath it – the impact had thrown my aim off too far.

The demon was now standing above of me, the razor-sharp teeth only a few inches away from my face.

"_X alar gular adare mishun shi rikk ante shi. X karkun nagas aman ashj amanalar alar arakal melar matheredor ._(I will drain every energy you have from you. A strong magic user like you will surely taste tremendous.)" As the demon pinned down my arms, the two tentacles from its back attached to my chest and I felt how my stamina and energy were slowly fading from the very second on. Darnys charged at the demon in a final effort, but her attacks hardly did anything to the scaled body of the felhunter. It just kept ignoring her and continued to feast on my lifeblood, my essence.

Desperately I tried to concentrate on one last shadow bolt. I only had to hit the ceiling once more, only one damn time. I yelled at Darnys to get out of the tower, but she wouldn't move. No other options left and no more time to lose I tore my right arm free from underneath the claws of the felhunter. It tore away a large part of the undead flesh of my arm. Yet a small jet of dark purple light flew up.

I heard how the stones of the tower crumbled, though I couldn't see it, everything around me grew blurry, the demon almost had me done... I tried to yell at Darnys again, that she should get out of the room immediately. I didn't know whether she had done what I had said or not. The next thing I can remember is that the body of the demon was suddenly pressed against mine as large parts of the ceiling hit it in the back and the creature let out a howl of pain and surprise. I on the other hand had the more advantageous position for once... I used the body of the creature as a cover for myself.

It took a while for them until somebody finally managed to get us out from under the pile of rocks.

As the stones were taken away I rolled the body of the felhunter off me and stood up. My legs staggering a bit as I made my way out of the tower, Darnys jumped right at me throwing her arms around my neck offering her support.

The old warlock then ordered his apprentices to get the felhunter out of the tower too. Just about after it had been dragged outside by the young orcs I took a close look at the creature and heard a faint voice in my head. So it wasn't dead after all...

"Thoonum"


	24. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 8

_Chapter 8: _

Getting back to Undercity sadly wasn't as easy as I had thought at first.

The old warlock might have impressed about me being able to defeat such a beast of a felhunter, but he was no less furious concerning the destruction and collateral damage I brought upon his tower. It took me a good while to talk him into the idea of the warlock guild of Undercity coming up for the damage caused. The old man didn't really trust the Forsaken and who could blame him about that, then again? It was he who lived amongst goblins in the first place.

But the moment I left Ratchet behind me, I was already thinking about how I would accept my new robe once I got back to the guild. I could finally leave the old rags I was still wearing behind and with them the last bits and pieces of me connecting me to my former life. What more could I wish for?

Seeking a few moment of my own I dismissed Darnys to the wretched planes of her own realm and told her how I would call upon her again once I had reached Tirisfal.

She was clearly disappointed due to the outcome of the situation, surely for the most part because I denied her riding the airship with me again. However, this time I had other plans for the duration of the flight. Just as she began nagging how we would spend less and less time together from now on, with that new monstrosity by my side easily topping her in manners of strength, I dismissed her, making her leave this realm forcefully.

The flight with the Wyvern from Ratchet back to Orgrimmar didn't take too long to my surprise. So I hurried down the tower to hopefully catch the next aircraft heading over to the other continent as quickly as possible. Unfortunately as it turned out I was too late for the last one and it departed right before my eyes without any chance of stopping it. So ... I just had to wait for the next one. No form of anger or threat made any of the goblins by tower work ahead of their schedule... I never tried coin, but either I hadn't any to begin with.

Of course these developments delayed everything for a good couple of hours. Nevertheless the next one quickly appeared on the horizon.

If you think about it for a second, just how long you travel to get from Kalimdor to the Eastern Kingdoms and how short you actually only have to wait for the next airship to arrive, there must be at least twelve of these on their way from continent to continent... And strangely enough you never see one of the others while you are on the flight.

Besides..., this is a goblin transport system after all and I can only suppose if you saw another of their aircrafts, it would probably be too late to avoid the crash anyhow.

As I then boarded the next zeppelin as soon as it had arrived, I summoned my new pet the felhunter to my side. I would use the time I had to get to know the creature a bit better. And I do have to say, this fiend seemed to be the most reasonable one of my demons. Thoonum wasn't nagging about every little bit or detail, wasn't crazed by myself or constantly trying to suck out every caster he would see, although I have to admit he seemed to be a bit of a snob, but he followed my orders just as I said, so I would be able to look over his flaws with ease.

After leaving the airship upon our arrival in Tirisfal, I dismissed Thoonum and re-summoned Darnys. At that time I already assumed that these two demons would be the ones I would have by my side for most of the time. The imp was nagging far too much for my liking and the voidwalker, well... he hated this world anyhow and was not in the slightest too shy to tell everybody we came across.

But I have to give that blue bulk one thing... if I compared Undercity with Orgrimmar, I would have to agree that the architecture and moderate darkness of the Undercity was far more appealing to me, not to mention the structure and the flair of the city. But that's just my opinion, I've met more than enough people that wouldn't agree with me on that, not that it would matter in the end.

With a feeling of triumph I entered the mage quarters and shortly afterwards the Temple of the Damned in its middle. The sheep was coming home to its herd victorious over the wolf and Kaal was already awaiting me eagerly. He stretched out his large green arms and greeted me happily.

From this day on I was what he called a sophisticated warlock, not yet fully trained, but he made it clear that he would address to this issue soon enough. So nothing more would stand in the way of my own legacy... He was quick to take me to his side and showed me my new private quarters inside the guild's halls. Only few members have rooms in this part of the city... only the most worthy serving Sylvanas. Then he came to show me my room. It was quite the surprise, but he explained to me that after retrieving two very important books in the name of the Horde, furthermore the Forsaken, it would be an honour for them to have me residing here within their midst. Of course it felt strange at first, I had only done the things necessary, but I got used to the idea of it rather quickly. But then, the most important part followed. He told me that my new robe was already inside the room, waiting for me to pick it up. I was urged to join him again in the general room once I had rested sufficiently and settled in, as he already knew that my grandeur would long for more tending to. Kaal left me to my own immediately afterwards.

Looking around my new quarters I spotted my new robe quickly, a relief to simply see, let alone putting it on. It was crafted from finest cloth, pitch black as the night with crimson parts around my shoulders and below the waist. Along these parts the seam was highlighted with a layer of golden toned material. Definitely a fine piece of clothing to call one's own...

Changing without any hesitation I spread out my old rags on the floor.

There it rest, almost completely ripped apart, the last connection to my past and to my weakness. The once so clean white robe with crimson linings along the seams, the red emblem on my chest now torn to shreds - I still remembered so clearly how happy I had been on receiving this. Was I wrong?

By then the robe was covered in dirt and the curdled blood of my enemies, not to forget my own staining it first. Darnys quietly sat close by on my bed wondering why I was looking so sad at this old rag. Carefully she wanted to know whether something was wrong, but I only answered with a clear and cold "No!", before setting the robe on fire.

I decided the flames should consume the last pieces of my memories, taking them along into oblivion.

Not sure what exactly would expect me I made up my mind that I did not want to rest any further, I had spent enough of my time on that on the zeppelin already. So ... I ordered Darnys to follow me to the guild hall.

I brought back two very important books, travelled through half of the two continents to obtain these four demons I have under my command, yet this all happened in such a feasibly small amount of time. Despite being barely able to grasp it..., I already began to wonder how far I would be able to go in the end.

As I approached Kaal within the main complex of the temple, he was astonished that I didn't want to rest at all, but I turned down his concerns as soon as he brought them up and told him that everything would be fine as it was. Shrugging with his shoulders Kaal then pointed out the way to a large table at the far back of the room. I did not know whether that day was something special or not, but the room, the whole hall was filled with lots and lots of people, most of them undead warlocks sitting and drinking with their fellows. It's not necessary, same with the motion of breathing... but you know as it is – old habits die hard.

As we passed through the room my succubus put up quite the show for her unsuspecting surroundings. Simply the way how she walked was alluring enough to make everybody stare at her, mouths wide open. The end of her tail sometimes purposefully grazed the cheeks of those poor people sitting next to the way we took as we passed them. She even let her whip drop once or twice one accident as she let it seem so she could stop and bend over as slowly as possible to pick it up before she continued following us. The few she winked at were rendered speechless, gazing at her from those lifeless eyes. This wouldn't be the last time and sometimes when she would put on a show like this I could only wonder that she kept her cloths on at all. And they always left that question behind... that idea and concern of how much of a necrophilicac she actually was...

"_Kazile daz, rethul ur? _(Having fun, aren't we?)_"_ I asked her in Eredrun.

And about the moment I had just closed my mouth again everybody was staring at me now, even Kaal. Darnys only offered me an angry gaze. Most likely because I had stolen all the attention she had been so carefully building up, from her with only a single sentence.

After everybody had managed to calm down again, I was showered with compliments about how beautiful my succubus was and how good I already spoke demonic, apparently even without the typical accent to it. It had taken us quite a while but we finally sat down at the table that Kaal had tried to guide us to.

The orc the continued to congratulated me once again on obtaining these four basic demons and highlighted what a great job I did and especially how fast I had been in progressing. In only a few weeks I had achieved something that normally took years for a reasonably skilled warlock. He looked at me as a kind of genius, a praise I knew I deserved. Though I didn't quite know what I should respond to the things he said and told me. At that time he still referred to me as Hector, but I was never tired enough to remind him that I wanted to be called Ceberus. And by the end of our little conversation he even got used to calling me that way, so I assumed he was a fast learner too.

Sadly and to my let-down most of the things he told me were simple warnings, that I nevertheless would still need to be careful not to summon a demon too strong to control or challenge a foe too mighty. He urged me to keep these things in mind as always the most promising warlocks are most prone to fall to this. At least he made a good effort in reminding me about it again and again and again, leaving me now to admit how these seem the only things I remember about the chat I had with Kaal that day.

Or perhaps, well maybe there is something else I can recall from that evening.

Actually the orc didn't want to talk to me about it, but well, he maneuvered himself into this corner figuratively speaking. He told me something about other demons of the burning legion and which of them already had been successfully enslaved at least once. The Infernals for example, aggressive yet mindless fiends created from rock and fire. Moreover he also let a name drop, Niby, the self-proclaimed Almighty, a hapless gnome warlock who had been exiled by the people of Stormwind. He now lived in the Felwood planning his revenge. Kaal was only laughing about the story, but I saw my chance in it.

I knew how I grew stronger with every demon I had under my command. I could feel as much. They were all powering me, even if they were still in their demonic realm. And Infernals? They should be even stronger, something terribly fearsome with no mind to hold it back.

I could only ponder how far this might be able to take me.

As the evening commenced and a good few more hours had passed we all returned to our quarters to get the rest we all needed. I on the other hand already knew how I would stay awake the whole time thinking about all the possibilities that had opened up all of a sudden. Though the only thing I knew for sure when I said farewell for the night and closed the door behind me was that I never wanted to stop at this current level. There were far too many thinking of them as equals to me, a lie not far of a crime.

The rooms inside the guild hall had all been designed so that the warlock wouldn't have to dismiss his pet over the night. If you entered the rooms to your right you'd usually find a large pile of pillows where your succubus or felhunter could rest and on the left of you there was a dark alcove where a voidwalker or imp could spend the night in solitude. In the back of the room there would be your own bed and this was exactly where I chose to lay down. Darnys sat down by the pillows at first, she definitely liked it over there, yet as soon as I had closed my eyes for only a second I heard how she came sneaking up to me. She didn't know I was still awake. I wasn't too concerned. Even you can't your own demons, they would never hurt you... they simply couldn't. And she came over on her own, just as I had expected.

Not fully aware of it I had left some space between me and the wall, so it wasn't long before I felt how she carefully climbed over me and laid down next to my side huddling against me and away from the cold stone. Her head was then lying directly next to mine and her hand on my chest. For a moment I couldn't avoid the thought that it felt as if she was in love with me. But as these go... they only unearth pain, followed by my concerns that I was a Forsaken. I couldn't even restrain myself and kept on thinking about these silly matters for quite a while deep into the night.

But just as your perception dwindles after a while so did these pointless thoughts and my mind ultimately shifted on to a different topic with utmost ease. I was growing anxious already to learn the new spells Kaal had promised to teach me once I rose to this level. He hinted on how it would be mainly fire magic, but I didn't care. He could try to teach me frost magic, I was sure I would be able to learn several spells from him.

But there was something else that wouldn't let go of me... The name 'Niby' rose several times from the depths of my head during the course of the night. I also briefly thought about the Forgotten Shadow and what they wanted from me. Yet none of them ever contacted me... At that moment in time I was following their virtues in a direct fashion. I wouldn't have thought of it as so easy but all came naturally to me. I gained power fast, my strength rose without ends and I offered respect to the high warlocks of the Horde and I kept following my own goals with the tenacity I would need. Thought it never truly went away... that question. And as I kept thinking about all of this I began asking myself again whether I was a real member of the Horde to begin with or not. I've never met any of the great leaders and neither did I swear an oath to anybody... and actually I did not ever want to change that.

All I wanted was freedom. And in a way I was free, even back then. Yet just by residing inside the Temple of the Damned, deep within the guild halls I somehow was bound to the will of Kaal Soulreaper and the warlocks of the Forsaken. I was almost certain how the guild would soon give out assignments for me, especially if I grew to become this famous warlock that they all wanted me to be.

This was something I wanted to change as quickly as possible. But how to do that? But as simple as this question is posed, equally simple the answer is given - more power!

Finding myself back at where I had started I kept thinking about my possibilities and came to the conclusion that I should leave again tomorrow, immediately begin to make my way to Felwood. The new goal right in front my eyes the rest of the night passed then by rather fast, Darnys sleeping tightly huddled to me for its entirety.

It was when first I heard other people outside that I decided to get up again. And just as I had moved for the first time, the first slight tremor going through my limbs Darnys was looking right at me from large drowsy eyes bearing wide a smile on her face. I got up slowly not questioning her behavior as Darnys stretched behind me before doing the same as I did.

We left my private quarts and made our way to the general room. For the moment I just wanted to know who was already awake.

Not surprisingly it was still quite empty all in all and I figured it how must have been still rather early. But instead of sitting down and waiting for Kaal to show up, like any other sloth in this organization I wanted to use the time I still had wisely and so we left the Temple of the Damned to gather some supplies. Personally I might not need anything to eat anymore, but Darnys sure liked a treat every once in a while. Besides... by then as I was wearing those fine new robes, most people in Undercity greeted me with far more respect than before. They now acknowledged how strong I already was.

Strength... the one of the very few things a Forsaken lives his cursed life for, strength and ultimately revenge.

After about an hour had passed, I would guess, we returned to the mage quarters. I had no idea where I would find this gnome called Niby, but I knew where I could get a detailed map of the Felwood. For starters I guessed that would help at least a bit.

Supplied with sheet of parchment a few pieces of additional info I was set to get going, at least in theory. In the worst case scenario he would have allied with the Shadow Council in Jaedenar, but if that was the case I would have to simply take what I desired by force. A method I got quite good at over the time.

As we returned, Kaal had been actually awake for once. The orc he is, he wanted to invite me on a drink and something to eat but I turned down his offer. I wanted only to learn the spells he had promised to teach and then board the airship to Kalimdor again.

Not knowing where to my destination was set to he looked at me in bewilderment, but agreed to teach me whilst missing out on his breakfast nevertheless. He seemed glad at least that I wanted to search for my own destiny and not keep lingering in the mage quarters of Undercity living from assignments offered by the warlock's guild. I wondered if the mage guild were having the same problems.

Over the course of maybe an hour and a half he taught me three new fire spells as well as several other things concerning using the power offered by my demons. Sadly in the end it wasn't all that flattering as he it announced to be. Sometimes I even had the feeling how I had already used one or two of these spells. Kaal never ceased to call them extremely difficult, though I never thought that way. Actually all of them had been equally easy to learn if you'd ask me. The first casts are maybe a bit rough around the edges but it's all just like that first shadow bolt in the end.

Those experiences left me to assume that all the other types of magic must be more difficult than shadow or fire. With those two you just stand around and focus on whatever effect you want to achieve. I didn't know that this principle was valid for every type. But then again, I came to realize how I had been a bit daft from time to time.

But at least one of the things I was taught that day would prove useful. As the most impressive thing Kaal showed me on that lesson, it was the rain from the twisted nether. It basically is a spell that summons a rain of fire over a certain area. No doubt I would have needed that earlier to deal with those pesky murlocs in Hillsbrad.

After we were done, I briefly thanked Kaal and promised I would return if I made further progress of note. He appeared utmost glad to hear that from my dead lips. Although he didn't admit that he wasn't able to teach me anything new either. Well... I guess it was better that way. If he had told me so, I probably would have never returned to him and in all honesty I would have probably missed out on quite a lot. He came to tell me about a lot of other important things when I would meet him again later on, but at that point he still was too careful concerning me and my strength. He only saw my potential and not the ability I had already gathered...

And then I was off again... Me and Darnys left Undercity and immediately went up to the tower where the zeppelins usually departed from. The goblin at the top platform greeted us friendly with the typical sleazy smile of their race, but told us that we would have to wait a little bit longer than usual. One of the airships had a minor accident and crashed at the north coast of Tirisfal. Therefore we would have to wait for the next one to arrive.

So a crash landing is what goblins call a "minor" accident, huh?

I used the extra time on my hands for further practice of my knowledge in Eredrun with the help of my trusty succubus. It was particularly funny to watch how the goblin reacted to sound the words. At some point I simply stopped thinking about the pain you feel when you don't understand the language. It didn't concern me so I stopped bothering. And in all honesty, by then I truly liked the demon tongue, not only by the sound of their words, but being able to talk in such a noble and respectful way and yet on the other hand every word you speak sounds wretched and cruel to your heart's content...

As we had finally arrived in Kalimdor later on I hurried through Orgrimmar as fast as possible just so that I wouldn't have to stay in that city for too long. As we passed the Valley of Strength there was again the usual lot of lunatics on the loose as I would find out with due time. Drunk orcs lying in front of the tavern, trolls and tauren standing around talking about mojo, for whatever that was... half-naked bloodelves walking the streets - the only race missing were the Forsaken, although I guess I just didn't see them.

I dismissed Darnys in front of the flight master and asked whether his Windriders would be able to bring me to Felwood. He responded reluctantly but admitted that this would indeed be possible, yet only to the so-called Emerald Sanctuary, a camp set up by the Circle of Cenarius, located in the far south of the tainted woods. Nevertheless I agreed, going by foot would be dreadful in any case and only slow down my progress.

The Wyvern started its flight to the north kicking off the ground with its strong hind legs, then going through the woods of Ashenvale and entering the corrupted lands of Felwood. The Hyjal Mountain was directly to the east, looming over and casting its shadow down upon us, careful to hide its top from my gaze.

Right after I had landed, I was welcomed by a tall grown nightelf asking me in broken common if I spoke Darnassian. I shook my head and after that I didn't pay any more attention to her. She wiggled around behind as I guessed that she still tried to tell me something about this area and how I would be able to help their utmost noble of cause, but I only summoned my succubus and walked away. The elf tried to hold me back from leaving once, yelled something that they could really need my help and whatnot. Yet Darnys offered her typical angry look, maybe even mixed with a bit jealousy and let her whip crack once, showing off she wouldn't hesitate to apply force if needed. I on the other hand just kept on walking, not looking back to any of the two. Still I wondered why that elf talked to me in the first place..., weren't nightelves supposed to be hostile towards members of the horde?

Anyways after reaching a fair distance to the camp I focused again on the reason why I had come there, it was solely to find Niby.

Felwood was a sickened land, cursed by the Burning Legion. The water had a slight green color and was without poisonous. Living oozes roamed around the small lakes and rivers that were still flowing. The animals were almost completely tainted, similar to the ones of the plaguelands. Their flesh was rotting away from their body with every minute that passed, with every step they took. And most of the old elven ruins, once proud towers and beautiful pavilions, were now festered with satyrs.

It feels somewhat strange to admit it, but finding this Niby wasn't too difficult. It took some time to get to him but that was mainly because I started out in the far south of the region and he was situated more off to the north, near the only river carrying actual water through those lands.

Also I didn't find him first, but instead his imp. It all happened more or less by accident. He was chasing the little demon because he had criticized his master's summoning abilities. Darnys only rolled her eyes at the sight of a gnome chasing an imp and I too had doubts of my own now that I saw this 'almighty' warlock. But sometimes you have to gamble with fate and after travelling all the way... I might as well take the chance once I had been already there for once...

I approached him with far too much respect than he deserved and greeted the gnome in false friendship. To my bewilderment he understood every word I said and even refrained from replying in gnomish but instead common. I wondered if he really was so powerful like Kaal had mentioned, there must have been a reason for him being sent into exile, maybe he had murdered an official or conducted forbidden experiments inside the city. Who would have known that it was due to fraud...?

Instead of revealing such a compromising secret to me though, he rather told me about his keen plan of revenge to destroy the city of Stormwind once and for all...

But for that he would be in need of a stronger minion by his side than the little Impsy standing next to him. He also added without hesitation that the demon he sought should be capable of more than nagging and complaining.

Darnys used the moment of inobservance of the gnom well and whispered into my ear that I should be careful in trusting the warlock as he hardly seemed to be able to conduct a single efficient spell in her eyes. I have to admit it was right what she said to me, yet I didn't want to judge him only from the first sight. Again a bold move on my part and hardly worth it in the end...

After Niby had finished his monologue about the destruction of Stormwind he was planning, I interrupted him firmly, asking whether it was true or not that he was able to enslave infernals. The way he talked and the look in his eyes suddenly changed. He grew somehow fearsome, for a gnome at least.

Taking another step towards me he looked up at me and wanted to know who I was and what I wanted such information for. I answered truthfully and told him my name, Ceberus, and that I wanted nothing but to learn how to do this from him.

A moment of silence followed as he thought for a moment, looking over at his imp. Then he turned back at me and offered me something which would heighten my mood. He revealed that he had an idea how I could probably be of aid for him and then he would be of aid for me. His face show offering a grim smile in return.

Both of us now seeing how our chances seemed to be suddenly growing, he told me of a great infernal that once had roamed these lands and how it was once called by the name of Kroshius.

This infernal would surely be a splendid minion for him. Yet unfortunately the fiend was already dead, slayed a long time ago and one would have to reignite its extinguished core. Luckily his imp, Impsy, knew how to create demonic fire which we needed to revive the demon, to take it back from rock and rubble and set its burning heart ablaze once again. Then he directed me to talk directly to his demon, if I was successful in retrieving the flaming core of Kroshius for him, he would teach me how to summon and enslave infernals at will.

I looked at Darnys who seemed incredibly worried at the time, yet I agreed to the deal of the gnome.

The imp by his side squealed in response just like Pipfip always did when he disliked something as I approached the creature.

I opened my mouth to speak, yet before I could say a single word, the imp interrupted me telling me that he already knew what I wanted to say.

In order to create demonic fire he would need a perfect demonic essence from certain demons residing in Felwood. Only their essence, one could hardly call it 'soul', would be strong enough to reignite the corpse of Kroshius. Unfortunately for me these creatures, Felguards, are held as minions by the warlocks of Jaedenar and I didn't expect them to be too pleased by the fact that I wanted to kill their strongest pets either. But well, I had no other choice.

I didn't need any more instructions on where I had to go thanks to the thorough mapmakers of Undercity.

The imp squeaked happily as I agreed to the task and wished me a quick and painless death upon me as took my leave. What a nice way to say farewell, isn't it? I was quite sure he and Pipfip would get along rather well, should they ever meet.

As I left, Niby tried to summon another demon to his side, tired of own imp, which ended in a mild explosion that I could still hear from afar. As I heard it, the bad thoughts I had about this whole thing only turned even worse. But I was still willing to take the risk even if it turned out to be a dead end after all. Stubborn you could call it perhaps.

Getting to Jaedenar was probably one of the easiest things about it, I just headed back south and besides I already knew where it was thanks to my map... I had passed it once already on my way to Niby.

Jaedenar itself was by far the biggest nightelf ruin inside Felwood, the former druidic barrow den had been taken over by the warlocks of Gul'dan and after the slaughter of all former inhabitants it had been renamed in the honour of Kil'jaeden, a commander of the Burning Legion. At least that was what I had been told about this area beforehand.

The Shadow Council still resided there, not very successfully trying to spread the region's corruption to Ashenvale and Darkshore.

As I stood in front of the entrance to the area sacred to the lesser minions of the legion I made a few clear for myself once again. That I would retreat as soon as I got the essences described and that surely I would have to face a heavy resistance no matter if worthy or not. This was also the first time that I had this feeling, the hunch that this would be the first time that I really endangered myself. Darnys was standing by my side also a bit reluctant while thinking of what could happen to us. I don't remember if she tried to hold me back or not, either way she hadn't been too pleased with the thought of all this since we had seen the gnome for the first time.

The whole area was heavily populated with all kinds of cultists of this so-called council. There were orcs as well as humans, or Forsaken, or even more gnomes.

The foremost of them was a Forsaken just like me. He was wearing a staff and not looking too dangerous at all. I concentrated on a shadow bolt to take him out with one clean hit. It would be the least I could do for a fellow of kin. Still at a fair distance and despite being as quiet as possible for me, the cultist suddenly turned around and created a sort of violet sphere around him, just as the jet of shadow magic flew directly at him. A grim smile was on the face of the Forsaken as my projectile vanished into nothingness. To my astonishment the spell had been completely absorbed by the strange shield

Yet it was also shattered by my cast and the look in the cultist's eyes suddenly changed to rapid fear.

Aware that my shadow spells wouldn't be so useful if most of them could create such a shield around them I tried to finish him off with fire magic. Just so I would get a hang my still fairly new spells. This way I could try all of them out on real targets. I cast an immolate on another caster close by. Vulnerable to the full extent of the spell the cultist tried to flee in vain. Wanting to see what it did to a living target I then used a new spell that Kaal had taught me. He had called it conflagrate. It uses the fire already consuming the victim and raises its temperature rapidly. The result? It explodes.

The cultist had no chance as the smell of burned rotten flesh filled the air likewise. Seeing the mangled corpse I immediately knew that this would get to be easier than I anticipated after all.

I carefully killed my way one by one through the open area outside of the ruins. The cultists even had their own felhunter pets to my surprise yet it's mostly thanks to them that I fully understood why Strahad was so impressed by mine and more even that I was able to defeat him in the end, despite the damage to his own dwelling. I was able to kill one of their felhunter with a single shadow bolt. A spell of this power wouldn't even have left a scratch on the scale hide of mine. Unfortunately this also meant that only the felguards in this area would be able to leave parts of their essence behind after dying. This 'essence' usually appeared as dark crystals filled with the purest dark energy of the twisted nether.

Leaving me the certainty that if I wanted or not, I had to enter the building to my far right to get what I needed to advance further in the dark arts. Stripped of any other way I approached the open door with the staircase leading downwards into a cave system deep beneath the surface of the earth. I assumed down there was once a sleeping place for druids, but by the time I set foot into the once empty halls, far more vile things would reside in the shadows lurking about.

As I reached what seemed to be the bottom level, I entered a long hallway. The walls consisted solely of hardened earth and the floor was covered with tiles made from stone scattered out without too much care every other step, roots of the trees above us were visible in various places. The whole way was only barely lit with failing torches.

A single warlock was standing guard at the entrance, hardly an opponent. A shadow bolt of mine pierced his body and heart quietly even before he could build up a defense, making him drop to the ground without a further sound. Chances are he probably didn't even notice why he died all of a sudden.

The hallway opened into a large room with several levels in height. Right in front of me two bridges crossed the way to the lower levels leading to several smaller chambers and to my left I could use a staircase to climb further downwards. Darnys pointed over to one of the smaller chambers. She must have felt the presence of these strong demons for a while now. And just as I had hoped for... a felguard and a warlock were standing inside the little room conducting one of the many rituals necessary to bind demons.

I could tell that the warlock would spot me if I began gathering energy for a stronger spell such as a shadow bolt so instead I started out with something quick. A single immolate would do, that way I would at least land the first hit. The moment the spell was on its target, the demon guard came charging towards me knowing its master in trouble. I could still conduct the explosion of the spell so that the warlock wouldn't interfere any further, yet the demon kept charging nonetheless. The moment it reached me I received a hard hit from it with the fist, knocking me backwards into the wall. It stood over me with a large axe in his other hand and I was left to cherish the fact how the demon didn't use its weapon to begin with...

For whatever reason it halted a short moment, but then I saw why. Darnys was attacking it all out, trying to save me at any cost. The attacks must have hurt to distract the demon, but clearly not enough to bring the creature down. It turned around in a fluent motion and hit her too, sending her flying backwards onto the bridge and almost over the edge. It was hard for me to focus while seeing how Darnys was getting hurt so badly, but I got up fast and put all my anger and hatred for this creature into one single spell. I was standing right in front of the felguard, my hand with the charged shadow bold right in front of the head of the demon, impossible to be dodged.

Black blood was pouring out of the stump of a neck that remained as the body fell to the floor twitching and shivering. I kicked the axe out of its hand before it could hit me or something else with it random stray swings.

Still gathering my own senses I hurried over to Darnys and had a look if everything was alright. Luckily she was only unconscious nevertheless I thought it would be wisest to dismiss her to her own realm where she could recover properly.

A bit weary of what might await me if I continued onwards alone I summoned my felhunter to my side. He on the other hand looked at the current situation somehow as supper time or something similar. Thoonum immediately attached his two tentacle first to the mutilated felguard and then to the warlock.

After he was done with 'eating', the corpse of the demon disappeared into the twisted nether, leaving a handful of dark violet crystals behind wherever a larger amount of its blood had been spilled. My felhunter wanted to eat those too, but I could hold him back just in time to prevent that. I ordered him to stand aside as I was in need of those. Yet I promised to give him a few as a treat if he helped me to gather more whilst by my side.

I couldn't actually say why but I liked the company of the felhunter, even creating this little bargain with him... though he seemed a bit hoggish to me. With him by my side it would definitely be even easier to get through Jaedenar than before, although I swore to myself not to tell Darnys about this. I simply figured it'd be the best for all of us...

For the moment I was fairly sure that I only needed the essences of two or three more felguards. The hard part about this was the fact that there weren't too many of them as I should soon discover. Apparently most warlocks here had trouble with controlling them and therefore switched to pets that were easier to handle, mostly imps or felhunter.

Of course the warlocks and their lower minions were no match for me and Thoonum, and actually... I didn't have to do anything at all. My felhunter basically ripped them apart completely on his own.

It was a while before I found another two of the guards inside a pit. Apparently the room was used for some kind of ritual, around the middle of it there was a circle of burning candles, carefully assembled. At first I was a bit reluctant to send my felhunter out to attack both of the guards, but I actually had no real choice, I just had to do it. And it even went fairly well too, Thoonum dodged most of the hits of his opponent and the one or two strikes that hit him didn't seem too hard, but as they summoned their axes everything became a lot more dangerous, at least for me that was.

I attacked one of the guards as good as I could, but it hardly did anything except for making the creature notice me. The shadow bolt I used in the fight before must have been a lot stronger due to the situation I was in. Yet again I was quite sure that I could concentrate on my own survival... nothing would happen to my felhunter, he was agile enough to see this through.

From one moment to the other then everything went quite fast. One of the guards stopped attacking Thoonum and focused solely onto me. The moment he charged at me I prepared for a close range shadow bolt again. The demon was swinging his axe to deliver a blow that would have clearly chopped me in two.

I dodged the weapon only by inches and the heavy axe dug deep into the earth to my side. My mind was filled with fear, fueling the spell even more. From this short range it tore off one arm of the demon without any trouble. The creature was tumbling backwards letting a fountain of black blood fill the air around us. A few spurts of the blood hit my face, leaving a faint burning sting behind. It burnt the flesh right off my skull, leaving marks that can still be seen today.

The other felguard seemed taken by surprised that his friend suddenly had fallen to the ground with one limb detached. I used the moment the demon was distracted to aim another shadow bolt filled with anger and the lust for more blood directly at its head. I didn't manage to hit the target I was aiming at but the shadow bolt dug through the flesh of the demons neck, which also did enough damage to almost kill it instantly.

Blood came pouring out of the injured demons, which I gladly saw as for this would be the essences I needed. After the blood had crystallized and the bodies vanished from this realm I carefully picked the remains up and put them into my bag to the others.

I just hoped that this was enough for the imp to create this fire of his. I hurried out of the underground structure and yet I have to admit I got lost at least twice while I tried to get out. The different hallways were all looking so alike..., a confusing structure indeed.

As I had managed to reach the surface of the earth again, I gave one of the crystals to my felhunter and promised that he would get everything what the imp wouldn't be needing for his little spell.

Fueled by our small success we left the area around Jaedenar together, the felhunter tagging along my side. We may have only killed underlings while we were down there, yet I assumed the higher ranked members wouldn't be so pleased about finding all the dead cultists of theirs in a couple of hours or even only minutes.

Upon returning to Niby, Impsy started to run away at first as the imp saw my felhunter.

I handed over the essences I gathered to the little demon who gladly squealed as he saw what I had. The imp greedily snatched all of them from my hands and only I heard how my felhunter was snarling back at Impsy.

With one quick movement and before any of us close by could interfere the imp put all the crystals into his mouth and swallowed them as a whole. With a loud burp a jet of flames shot out of the mouth of the demon and set the ground in front of me on fire. The fire was flickering in a strange light green toning, a bit brighter even than the fire surrounding the imp naturally.

I stared at the green flames in front of me for a good few moments. There was something terrifying yet appealing about them. I felt the energy of the twisted nether running right through the air around the fire and eating away at the ground underneath it.

Then a new problem arose... how would I be able to pick it up without hurting myself?

The imp squealed at me once more, shouting that I should just go and grab a stone or something for it before it ceased from this plane, that there would be no heat.

I believed his words concerning the flames being as cold as the earth I was standing on at that time and yes - as I dug into the earth next to the flame I didn't feel any warmth at all. I tried carefully not to touch it, as I was well aware that even if it wasn't warm at all, the flames would be capable of burning away my arm as a whole within only a few seconds. Even my felhunter took a fair distance to the fire as it continued to happily burn away on everything it touched even only once. One thing I could tell though... I would need as much of the flame as possible.

From the corner of my eye I spotted a long and flat stone lying next to the trees, probably chipped off from one of the bigger ones scattered about. It would serve as a fine tray for the fire. I dug out a couple of inches around the center of the flame so that I could pick up a pile of earth with the green fire on top of it. As I mustered up my courage and picked it up with my bare hands a lot of the flame fell back onto the earth leaving its burning mark wherever it landed. I hurried over to the stone and almost threw the flame onto it. With this solid tray I would be able to get the fire to the stone corpse of Kroshius without any more trouble I hoped.

Meanwhile the imp instructed me where I would have to go to find the resting place of the dead demon. Up into the forest to the north from here on a hill there should rest the corpse of the fiend I sought. The area around it would be filled with craters where most of the infernals had once crashed to the earth of Azeroth during the third great war. Getting there shouldn't be too much of an issue... I knew I wouldn't have to worry too much about the flame. The longer I was in its presence, the more I came to understand it and its nature..., it would surely burn for at least three more days before dying off. A number the imp greatly underestimated. Although I would still have to be careful not to let the flame touch any of my skin or whatsoever. It would swallow me whole without remorse, just like the avatar of chaos that it is...

The gnom Niby was present the whole time, yet he preferred to fish in the lake filled with green water. He didn't even bother to watch over us... but as soon as U wanted to leave towards the north he shouted at me that no matter what happened I should only return to him with the flaming core of Kroshius or else...

The only thoughts I, on the other hand had on seeing him sitting there were something like 'arrogant bastard'. That probably should be the exact wording.

The place the imp had described to me wasn't too far away at all. The fire on the stone in front of me started burning stronger and stronger with every step I took. I felt how it fed on the foul energies in this forest, the spirit of this tainted lands. And as I reached the top of a hill almost next to the bluff of Mount Hyjal the flame rose high up into the air for a second. Upon this the fire had almost devoured the complete stone, leaving nothing of it behind. Not even ashes were cast onto the ground. It would only take seconds to either spread to my hands and arms or burn right through the stone so it would fall onto my feet.

I saw the huge pile of rocks I was aiming for lying wildly stacked next to a tree. I took my chances and threw the rest of the flaming stone directly into their midst.

The fire then began happily jumping from stone to stone as if it was following a clear pattern after it had landed somewhere in their middle. It grew stronger and stronger with every piece of rubble it reached just until everything was glowing in a faint light green tone. No more but an alien process to witness, the rabble began moving. Slowly it piled up and a pitch black stone formed the center of the creature now standing in front of me. The stone was about as big as my head and I knew immediately what it was... Around this center piece the rest aligned steadily. Four of the larger stones formed some sort of legs for the creature. The smaller ones connected and formed a body and arms. Another smaller stone resembled the head. It was now about twice to three times as high as I was, the fire still burning happily inside the structure.

The demon was not yet moving on its own, but Thoonum started snarling at the creature.

Suddenly the fire burned through the little stone on its top, opening three holes, which made it look as if there were eyes and a mouth to this thing.

"_Lok amanalar il Amanare... Kar daz amanare no? KAR DAZ AZ? _(The pleasure of Freedom... Who has awakened me? WHO WAS IT?)_" _

The voice was dark and loud enough to be heard throughout the whole forest with ease.

The movement of the demon began to pick up, at first it was slow and looked clumsy, yet I already felt the pressure of its presence.

It looked at me and my felhunter.

"_Shi ashj lok zar ante theramas no, zennshi? _(You were the one that awakened me, warlock?)_"_

The words of the demon were followed by a dull, yet grim laughter.

"_X alar buras shi x tiros ruk ashjraka golad kar zila re x mannor. _(I will grant you a quick and painless death for this as a favor.)_"_

The demon came walking towards me slowly. I backed up a bit further as in my mind I heard the voice of my felhunter and how he asked me to allow him to attack. I granted his wish and my demon charged at Kroshius.

As the felhunter reached his opponent he tried to bite into the leg of the creature forgetting about it being completely made of stone. The two tentacles on his back attached to it for nothing but a split second only, but you could see the flames fluttering as the felhunter drained the magic, even if it was only for the blink of an eye.

The infernal hit Thoonum in the side sending him flying away in response.

"_Belaros amir... enkilzar il x karkun. _(Pitiful fool... enslaved by a mortal.)_" _

Thoonum quickly got to his feet again. I was paralyzed because of the strange fascination for this monstrosity combined with the fear I felt deep inside me. So tall and dull, a giant of brute force, but then again the creature was overflowing with foul energy. If I could I would have made this creature mine the moment it stood from its shallow grave upon this hill.

Too late I realized that I was already in the reach of the fiend.

"_Arakalada archim..._(Meritless insect...)_"_

A hard hit with its fist sent me flying off to the side, smashing into the rock of Mount Hyjal. Everything ached even in my dead broken body, but now I was out of direct hit range for the demon at least..., and it still didn't move any faster either.

Everything around me was blurry. I got up back to my feet staggering, hardly able to keep balance. Meanwhile Thoonum jumped at the back of the giant made of fire and stone, attaching his tentacles again, this time long enough to really enjoy the energy he drained from the infernal. Kroshius couldn't reach where Thoonum was sitting with his claws dug deep into the rocks.

I tried to focus and cast a shadow bolt at it but the spell wasn't too powerful. Yet it remained strong enough to shatter parts of the stone in its upper right arm.

Suddenly the infernal formed a kind of ball. It only took split seconds to re-arrange itself before it started spinning in mid-air for a short moment, sending Thoonum again flying away.

The moment it took its usual form again the creature left an opening. I put all my anxiousness and fear into the spell I wanted to perform. The stronger the energy in my hand grew the stronger the thoughts in my head became. I almost yelled at myself in my head. I wanted nothing more than to be able to control such a being!

The shadow bolt flew faster than usual, piercing the upper part of the chest, if you want to call it that way, of Kroshius making the rocks crumble.

"_Shi lok kar karkun kar x maez karkun, zennshi... _(You are too strong for a mere mortal, warlock...)_"_

The demon came approaching me, this time faster than usual. I found myself out of position... there was no place to run to anywhere. I was completely cornered in the place where I was standing, so I could only try to keep on attacking. I knew that fire magic would hardly do anything to a creature like this, so my only chance was to hit him hard and often with various shadow bolts. It wasn't creative... but I could tell it was my only chance.

I stood there, trapped between large rotten trees, a mountain in my back and the largest demon I ever faced in front of me approaching ever so slowly me to end my existence with another good hit.

Shadow bolt after shadow bolt flew at it as despair and fear were creeping up inside me making them stronger with every second that passed, taking a good hold of my sense. Every one of them hit their target blasting small holes into the body made of stone.

"_Zar zennshi, melar golad! _( Now warlock, taste death!)_" _

The demon was standing directly over me raising his giant fist to smash me into pieces. In this moment Thoonum jumped at the creature one last time and bit into the raised arm. Kroshius was irritated for a mere moment, but long enough for my shadow bolt already flying at the stone neck of the creature.

The head fell to the ground the moment the jet of shadow magic had pierced the body, letting the thing tumble backwards. The creature was still alive, I felt as much. Besides... the fire was still burning inside the body. It would only be a matter of time until the demon had regenerated itself.

I had to seize the moment. Life and death were on a line only separated by moments of hesitation.

I hurried to the stone body and saw the pitch black core of Kroshius lying wide open for me to take without any protection except for the cold green flames.

I grabbed for it. It wasn't hot at all, on the contrary it was as cold as ice. Nevertheless I could feel how the flames burned away the white skin and rotten flesh right off of my fingers, leaving nothing but bones behind and even those wouldn't last forever.

I ripped the black circular stone right out of the core of the infernal as if I had ripped out the heart of a living creature. The flames inside the body immediately started ceasing and from somewhere I could hear a faint scream upon holding the black stone in my hands.

I wanted to keep it, it was mine – I had conquered it...yet I had made a deal with the gnome. If I had known at that time what Niby was about to tell me in return for this monstrosities heart, I would have kept the black orb and resurrected Kroshius as my own minion.

But well, that's too late now.

I returned to the warlock and his imp quickly, excited to claim my prize, my felhunter right by my side. It was a shame how my new robes had already been singed from the fire of the demon and a few parts on the back were already ripped open from the smash against the rocks.

The smell of my burned flesh lay in the air as I handed over the orb known as the core of Kroshius.

The gnome seemed utterly happy about this and he handed me a book in return. He told me that I would find everything I wanted to know inside of it.

As I left together with my felhunter, eager to study the forbidden knowledge resting at my bony fingertips I was looking at the first pages of the book.

Yes..., it was true that this book would teach me everything I had to know about how to summon an infernal from the twisted nether, what I would need and what spell I would have to speak. It informed me about everything involved including the risks... and with every word I read while I was walking slowly along the road to the south I felt how I became stronger. The flesh of my fingers was only a small price to pay for this, yet soon enough I would come to change my mind.

Coming from behind me I heard an explosion and the scream of the gnome, I didn't bother to turn around and take a look at what had happened.

I closed the book and the expression on my face changed, now showing fury and anger.

All in all, he deserved to die. There was no doubt about that...

The book he had given to me was a copy of something he had stolen from the cultists of Jaedenar. I could have found one of these right inside the nightelf ruins.

I screamed out loud in frustration letting the urge to kill drive it away.

But it wasn't enough... now that I had awakened it, it wanted to be fed. I headed directly into the woods following this blind desire, killing every animal in my way.


	25. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 9

_Chapter 9: _

Having obtained the ability to summon an infernal had changed my perception of many things... As I was to find out rather soon it was considered to be something really special in this world. Yet I on the other hand have to admit how all this rubbish about warlocks not even being able to summon even a succubus or a felhunter was something I couldn't believe nor understand for the longest time, simply because somehow it had been all so easy for me.

Information travels far too quickly for one's own good and only naturally I had made a name for myself inside the warlock guild, but now with the infernal by my side, obeying to my every command even other caster guilds also started to notice me. Above that I also rose to become a star follower of the Forgotten Shadow, despite me having hardly ever talked to any of the members of the cult. And frankly they didn't mean much to me. It was their virtues that gave me a goal in my existence, something I wanted to achieve, not the false words preached to me by empty hull of a man. I never had any interest in becoming friends with the whole cult. Sadly this almost meant constant surveillance by almost any kind of people...But it wasn't all bad. In Undercity even normal vendors then started to know my name, fortunately they knew me as Ceberus and not as Hector anymore.

The only thing none of them grasped or even considered for a single moment was the fact that I didn't want to become famous like this at all. All I wanted was freedom for myself.

But soon enough other desires began rampaging through my mind again. I wanted to see how strong my new demon really was and so I decided to travel to the Hillsbrad Foothills to either take revenge on the murlocs at the coastline or watch the diversion my demon would cause if I sent it right into the Fields of Hillsbrad, the small farmer village at the feet of the Alterac Mountains. I began shifting as my lust of blood grew stronger and more alike to the shadows... it doesn't matter whose blood would be spilled to satisfy my cravings.

After thinking about it for a while on the flight over to Tarren Mill I decided I'd go with the latter of the both and cause some havoc.

My fingers already itching for what was to come, I left Tarren Mill directly upon landing and within a safe distance to it I summoned the demon. The moment the infernal crashed down from the heavens and into this world for the first time, I felt how its presence began feeding my strength. All my capabilities surged, exceeding my own expectations by a long shot. I just wished this feeling would last and not diminish when it returned to its realm.

The amount of energy I could summon to use for a spell increased dramatically, I was sure that in a state like this a single shadow bolt of mine could even kill a strong felhunter like Thoonum with a clean hit.

A fierce glow in my eyes I started to make my way towards the west to get to the village. The presence of the infernal kept on feeding my lust for blood and made me leave the last bit of mercy for any human being behind. I wanted to see them dying, to hear them wince in agony, to beg in vain for my mercy... But all got broken up so easily as a loud scream interrupted my thoughts.

I calmed back down at least a bit and decided to have look at where the scream came from. I knew that there should a cave full of wendigos around there in the general area, as I had passed it several times.

It wasn't too far away and I would have crossed paths with the fury beasts anyhow... Surprisingly enough I found a few of them lying dead in front of their cave upon my arrival. It was a dead giveaway of what had been happening there. Then a second scream made into my ears coming from the inside of the cave. No doubt the person crying out couldn't be too far from the entrance.

Not entirely sure what might await me I hurried inside, the tall and clumsy infernal still by my side. Inside the cave, I was confronted with the decision to go left or right, the left way leading down deeper into the mountain and the right one up a slope. I took the way up to the right for now and quickly found the person screaming sitting next to a brazier surrounded by at least five of the wendigos looming over her. The voice had already given away that it was woman...

Wendigos are tall creatures with a usually grey to brown fur and two large horns attached to their skulls. They are still rather similar to humanoids in their physique. The person screaming turned out to be a bloodelf carrying a sword and a shield in a color matching her black armor with red highlights. It was not until later on that I would find out that this was the armor of the paladins of Silvermoon.

The blood on her weapon and the stains on her armor testified to her being the reason for the dead wendigos in front of the cave. In an act of self-defense the normally rather peaceful wendigos started attacking her, ultimately dragging her into this cave. This would be more than enough reason for me to test the strength of my new pet... although I clearly did not as much decide to aid the elf but rather satisfy my own longing for dark red liquid being spilled.

At first I only sent the infernal out to attack the utmost left animal while I was still surveying the situation... But I grew quickly enough to change my mind and prepare a spell for one of the other ones aiming for the one standing directly to her right with a shadow bolt.

The jet of violent magic hit the creature in the side. It flew faster than the infernal was walking and blasted a not so clean hole into the body of the wendigo of about twice the size of the creature's head. A little fountain covered the other wendigos as well as parts of the elf's armor in their blood. They turned to me immediately, for I was a far greater threat than the helpless bloodelf in their eyes.

Meanwhile my infernal had finally reached its target and it literally smashed the creature into the ground. The bones of the wendigo snapped like twigs..., incredibly loud twigs taking the attention off me again. With this much time suddenly on my hands I used it to try out almost every single spell I knew at that point only to see whether it had become stronger too and if yes, how much exactly.

The bloodelf looked at me from afar with scared eyes. So much terror... so much fright - I must have been at least as fearsome for her as the wendigos were before, probably more than that even. The demon by my side only enhancing this fiend appeal as it smashed wendigo after wendigo leaving no survivors and instead puddles of bone and fur. My pet even finished off the ones I wanted to kill slowly with my curses. Just as it got done with the actual threat around us it turned to the bloodelf and lifted its large arm, blood dropping down from the outline of the heavy stones, bet I ordered it to stop right in time.

The giant of flames and rubble froze in its movements and returned to my side immediately without any hesitation or questions to it. The biggest downside of the infernal though was how you could only keep it in this world for no longer than five minutes. And I knew I would definitely need to find a way on how to increase this duration. What's a follow worth if he disappears once you might him the most? Nothing – exactly! The infernal next to me stopped moving, then the green in flames in its carcass extinguished themselves in the glimpse of an eye and the whole creature collapsed.

I took my time cherishing my work had fulfilled during the last minutes and I have to say... I was pleased with the outcome. Afterwards I approached the bloodelf in her black and red armor still sitting shivering in between the mangled corpses of the wendigos.

As I stood directly in front of her, I casually offered her a hand to help her up. Poor things... She was so scared by me. I tried to talk to her, to tell her that I only wanted to help out, but she didn't really listen. And honestly, who could blame her for that? She must have thought that I also wanted to kill her too, like with the things around her. I probably got a bit carried away anyhow. So I just went on talking, trying to get some sense back into her. I told her my name and foremost that I was a citizen of Undercity and that I didn't have any interest in killing her. If I had really wanted to, I wouldn't have waited so long anyhow. But alright the part with the citizen of Undercity was a lie, but at least the rest was all purest truth.

I didn't really want to be a member of the Horde or whatsoever. And most of all I didn't want to get dragged into this fight with the so-called Alliance. It would only restrain me... maybe... maybe there would be chances to grow stronger... but giving up my free will yet again? No... I didn't think so.

Slowly she finally calmed down. It was out of question how she didn't trust me at all but at least now she got up back to her feet again. Yet she didn't even take my offer that I could help her up, instead she pushed my hand aside. Well... being careful towards strangers is considered a good trait, isn't it? At the time I couldn't see too much of her face either, due to the helmet she was wearing.

Having another look at the slightly disoriented elf as well as the mess I made, I asked whether we could now leave this cave. And just as I gave up any hope that she would answer me she asked me to wait in a still trembling and shacking tone. Her voice was strong, yet very light and clear, something only an accomplished. I wouldn't know how I could describe it in a way that suited the true sound of it.

Turning away from me for a second she held a kind of rod into the fire of the brazier next to us, turning them into light blue flames.

She asked me if I could accompany her on her way down into the cave to find another one of these fireplaces. She quickly made use of the fact that I was stronger than her and I? I agreed to help her, although I don't know any more why I did so in the first place.

Anyways there was a second of those braziers supposedly somewhere on the bottom level of the cave. All in all it didn't take too long to find it. I summoned my felhunter to my side as I thought of him to be the demon that would make the least trouble and also was the strongest of the lot, except for my infernal of course.

Getting passed the wendigos down there was rather easy as I recall. My felhunter killed them on his, own without any problem.

The second brazier as we found it was situated in a smaller part of the cave with a little underground brook flowing through it. As the iron rod was held into it, the fire turned into a bright green, similar to the demonic flames of my infernal or imp. On this day I first started to wonder if I would be able to create such flames on my own and little did I know at that time that from these thoughts one of my strongest spells would originate.

We left the cave not hesitating any longer. I was sure the wendigo population would grow back to normal again soon enough... I did not intend on killing as much of them as I had done, but I did not hold back. Getting carried away like this is something rather... normal in all honesty. And I was just as merciless while opposing them, as I would be with other opponent. I looked at it as training.

Back on the surface again the bloodelf turned to me for the first time. The black armor seemed to be made of pure onyx at least that was the way it looked like. It fit her body tightly, yet nevertheless flexible enough to allow her quick movements while in combat, not endangering her life. The blacksmiths of Silvermoon surely must have a high reputation among the elves.

She actually even took her helmet off so I could see her face for a change. It had a rather thin outlining but still she seemed strong just from looking at her. Her hair was of a bright orange and just long enough to be tied to a ponytail behind her head with a single strand of it in front of her magnificent green eyes. She had the typical long elven ears and eyebrows, but none of them narrowed her beauty down in any way.

I just loved elven eyes and hers were no exception. They were somehow hypnotizing.

She briefly thanked me for saving her and my aid I lent while finding the last of the braziers she was searching for. To my surprise she told me her name before she bid me farewell. Calystea as she called herself would have to address back to the task she was given in Tarren Mill. I briefly wondered about what she would have to do and for whom, but I didn't ask. I wasn't the most curious kind of person at that time...

I didn't know if destiny wanted to tell me something but I met her several times by mere chance during the following weeks, even on the evening of the same day inside the Undercity. And I even have to admit, it was not me who noticed her first. Usually she was the one who found me by accident and came up for quick chat or whatsoever. On the other hand, sometimes it felt as if she was trying to find me, as if she was searching for me on purpose.

After a couple more of these random encounters we started to do things together frequently, take assignments or whatever crossed our path. It turned into something regular even though my main interest was still focused solely on finding a way how I could grow further.

On one of those days Kaal had made me an offer he would come to regret in the future. He said that if I was able to create a spell of my own, something I could rightfully call my creation - he would give me a hint how to achieve something really rare even for higher ranked warlocks. I'm not entirely sure what that would be but I assumed there was at least some method to his madness... And he clearly wanted to test me whether I was really such a unique warlock or not. He wanted to see with his own greedy little orcish eyes what his prized student would be able to accomplish in the end... and I didn't even learn that much from him...

But of course this challenge he offered me filled me with energy, the burning desire to get going and put something together. Unfortunately no matter how many hours of thoughts I invested the only thing I had in the back of my head, that returned to me every night were those green flames. And of course I did most of my thinking during these graveyard hours, at the dead of night, with not even Darnys close by. There was no better time for it – I was hardly ever alone due to the elf. And Calystea usually stayed in Silvermoon for the night, because she thought of the Undercity as, how she called it, creepy and disgusting. I, on the other hand loved the Undercity. It was not as obtrusively colorful as Silvermoon, not as crowded and noisy as Orgrimmar and not as... well..., I just didn't like Thunderbluff too much to put it like that. No true offence to the steaks living there in their disgustingly peaceful manner. Although I have to admit I changed my opinion towards the tauren capital later on, after my first longer visit to it and the lands of Mulgore. But that is a different and rather unimportant story.

Anyhow it was easy enough to get from Undercity to Silvermoon, thanks to some of the magicians of the bloodelves who had installed a kind of teleporter in the upper courtyard of the ruins of Lordaeron.

And as time progress, I can't fully recall know how it all started, we spent almost every waken hour together. Biggest problem being, who would have imagined, the way Darnys reacted towards her. It was also during that time that I started to favor my felhunter as a pet, although he was usually quick to grow arrogant once a situation favored him, but he didn't act as jealous as Darnys by only hearing the name Calystea. And that was more reason enough for me to choose him ever so often.

I knew fairly well how my succubus had a certain affection for me, but this was just ridiculous. I hardly knew that elven woman and I had no interest in her anyway..., at that time at least.

Darnys usually went on a rampage on creatures when I had her summoned and went on an assignment together with Caly, as I used to call her. No doubt she tried to prove herself and show her strength and sometimes I could hardly hold her back and so she almost harmed me or Calystea in the process. Darnys also tried to start a brawl every once in a while. A simple method of provoking Calystea but she never paid too much attention to my demon. She was a paladin after all ... who knows what she might have done to my pet. Most of the times I dismissed my succubus the moment she started things like that. And each and every time I apologized to Caly she often responded that this wouldn't matter to her and that she understood a bit how Darnys felt. Putting it like this I could only question the situation and wondered whether I was the only one who thought of all of this as over-exaggerated?

On a different side of things I learned a lot about bloodelves and their habits during the time I spent with Calystea. Although I have to say the main thing I noticed more and more was that every bloodelf was some sort of diva or bitch deep inside, if you want to call it that way. She could be just as stressful as my succubus if she wanted to.

We travelled a lot in these few weeks we spent together. We visited almost every area of Kalimdor and the Eastern Kingdoms we could easily reach - from Winterspring in the north of Kalimdor to the far south of the continent with the deserts of Silithus and Tanaris as well as from the Ghostlands south of Silvermoon to Blackrock Mountain in the middle of the continent, to the lush and vibrant jungle of Stranglethorn in the far south.

Caly seemed to enjoy my company almost as much as Darnys did, for whatever reason..., most of the time I only tried to make progress with the spell I had in mind. Finally after a good while I had developed an idea of what I wanted to create, but for that I had to be able to create demonic fire on my own. Therefore I usually spent some time in the evening in the small library of Undercity containing a rich variety of forbidden magic, hoping to find something that would help me. Unfortunately every source tried to consult always only stated the same things over and over again... meaning what I tried to achieve was as close to an impossibility as it could ever get.

But as time passed, I almost lost track of my studies. I focused completely on the time I had with the elf by my side, the time we had together. I don't know how or why, but in the end... I guess fell in love with her.

With every day, every hour we spent close to each other, I thought of her as more magnificent and beautiful than before. There were these scarce moments when clear thoughts returned and made me ask myself whether she had put a spell on me or something of this sort. But I fell for it again and again and again...

I cherished this new form of thinking that came up. These were the first 'warm' feelings I had since the day I had died.

And it only felt even stranger. It even had me regret it at that time, for I was a Forsaken slowly rotting away. An eternity was awaiting me and she? She was a mere bloodelf, warm blood still running through her veins. Her beauty would perish eventually with the ages no to matter that elves live rather long compared to the other races.

But I always found a way to talk me into believing in it again, to have faith in us. To see the chance I only had to hold on to, to grasp. I was becoming obsessed by the idea of it.

Wool-gathering... All of the thoughts were nothing but illusions with not a single real base to them. And so it came to be how it must.

She betrayed me.

She may have spent a lot of time by my side, but we never got closer than a short hug or similar as a greeting or maybe a farewell. She also only ever knew the name I had chosen for myself, Ceberus. I held my true identity far too tightly locked away...

But what made it appear all so special? We always talked a lot, sometimes until deep into the night we just sat there in Tirisfal and gazed at the moon or we watched the sunset from the roofs of the houses in Booty Bay in Stranglethorn.

One evening I decided I did not want to let this opportunity pass by any longer and just as we sat on a hill in the glades of Tirisfal, near the mills of the Agamand family, I wanted to speak with about us... Yet she started talking about something else entirely... or should I say – someone else? Apparently there was this other elf she had met and that she didn't know how to talk to him about the feeling that arose in her just from his plain sight.

With every sentence she finished it felt as if she drove a hot iron nail deeper into my heart.

I don't know why I had started to clinch to the thought of her and me so much, but this was the payment I had to make for playing the fool, for thinking that way. All the hopes I had gathered turned to despair and to blind hatred within mere minutes.

During this one night I did not rest at all. I tried my best to hide it all away while she was still with me. I did not show a single sign of the pain I felt deep inside. And surely she would have only made fun of me for having such naive ideas... an undead and a bloodelf... how ridiculous. How could I even consider...?

I bid her farewell just as usually as she told me she would have to get going to the her home in Silvermoon, for it was already far too late. The bell of the town hall of Brill stated that it was already past two o'clock and my mind continued to make even harder for me, suggesting how she might still be awaiting somebody at this hour...

I told her I would still remain were I was for a while before she hugged me once as a good-night and then left. Little did she know how it would be for the final time ...

Everything in my mind was spinning as I saw her walk away, it had been ages since I had last felt this way and most certainly it was when I had been still alive.

I did not shed a single tear though. I don't know why, but I simply couldn't. Maybe it was one of the many advantages of being undead... I only sat there and glazed at the moon for about another hour or two. In my head I went through everything that had happened during the last weeks since I had met her. How everything had built up and fallen apart again. I even wondered whether this had all been my fault to begin with or not.

Anger rose in my mind, it slowly filled my heart with every minute, pushing the sadness aside. I didn't want to see her ever again... I knew I wouldn't be able harm her, not even the other elf she so desired. And more frankly I didn't want to hurt her in any way, yet I was filled with the silent rage of ages as I got up to my feet and turned to the north.

All happened so fast – just like everything in this time of my life. It had been only mere weeks. Yet for such a short amount of time it all had a somehow different taste to it. But now, within moments everything was shattered, destroyed and thrown away carelessly. But it didn't stop just there - everything else, everything I had done so far felt meaningless too. I tried to contest this void, but it was no use.

My mind and soul ravaged, I entered the grounds of the farms up on the hill festered by lower minions of the Scourge, the roughly fifteen mills of the Agamands looking down on me.

Driven by own blind insanity I yelled out loud at the mills as if they were people or creatures laughing about my misery, about the hatred consuming my mind. "Stop mocking me!"

Something in me changed on that day. Something snapped inside me.

Yet to my surprise it only made me stronger.

Madness was reaching out, showing its bleak fangs and pronged claws but I was already locked in the cold grip of hatred.

I threw out some aimless fire spells at a few of the mills setting them ablaze as I again yelled at them, "Are you still making fun of me?"

My hands were engulfed in bright flames, ready to burn down every single building on this hill. The skeletons and wraiths of the Scourge had finally noticed me and began to attack. None of them though lasted longer any than a single second, as I barely needed to touch them with my flaming hands.

Another fire spell let another building go up in flames, lighting up even the night's sky. The banshees inside of it shrieked as the flames devoured them whole. Only after I grew exhausted I fell to my knees again. But it wasn't over yet... More and more warriors of the Scourge came rushing towards me, blindly trying to protect their worthless little base of operations.

The second they had reached me, I screamed out loud, looking up into the sky above me.

A nova of flames spread out from the point where I stood, gorging every undead in its range - the tip of the flames slowly turning green.

I closed my eyes, but I didn't stop screaming. No, I gave in to the rage that flooded my mind even more. I opened up my soul for despair.

The fire around my hands had turned green the moment I opened my eyes again. It hardly felt warm at all, completely different to before. Was this...? My thoughts only came back together slowly. Was this really what I wanted to create?

It at least looked just like the fire the imp in Felwood had created for me.

Making an immediate connection I threw it at a larger stone lying close by at the roadside. And to my astonishment it really worked! The flames were slowly eating their way through it.

Fuelled by this sudden turn of events I got to my feet again and chose another one of the mills as a test object for the spell of mine. I wondered if I would be able to combine this fire with a normal shadow bolt, just as I had once before envisioned during one of the many nights of restlessness.

And yet again... it worked sufficiently. A jet of green and purple flew rapidly at the mill. Upon hitting its target the fire almost instantly spread to every inch of the outside of the building, the flames even jumping further over to the barn standing close by.

It worked! It really did...

So I found out how pure hatred served as the key to the darkest secrets of the twisted nether!


	26. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 10

_Chapter 10: _

I didn't abandon myself to my grief - at least that was what I believed in.

Then again harnessing these new powers would force me to drive my attention back to these... recent developments sooner or later... But nevertheless I still was able to focus on other things again surprisingly fast. It all had turned out in a way unfathomable for the rest of the peasants calling themselves members of the guild or high-ranked warlocks... and I had to do now, all that I longed for was to show Kaal the spell and demand his part of the bargain. I was more than simply anxious to find out what he wanted to show me.

Concerning the elven woman... I've tried my best to evade her ever since that one evening. I knew that if I only caught a sudden glimpse of her I probably wouldn't be able to restrain myself and at least try to kill her, even though I ultimately never thought of me as capable of doing so. It was strange kind of desperation that made me want to forget about all this as quickly as possible.

I might not have given in to the pain lurking about at every turn I might take, but I had opened up for something worse, something stronger - hatred. But yet again it wasn't all that bad... emotions are good source to feed from when breeding darkness. And of course the stronger you feel – the better the outcome.

In the early afternoon of the following day I met up with Kaal inside the Temple of the Damned. He was happy to see me, just as usual, but this time things were a bit different. I was the one who wanted to know something from him. He still wasn't fully aware the reason of my coming and wondered if I wanted maybe another assignment. Sadly enough his thoughts weren't that far off... The time with Calystea had made me to what I had wanted to avoid the most for the longest time - becoming bound to the warlock guild, a puppet to their will. But not so this time...

First of all, I let him know that I had fulfilled the criteria of Kaal's little offer towards me. Straight forward as I was I asked him whether there was an old training-dummy close by somewhere around, for I did not want to cause severe damage to the city. Perhaps I was a bit too precautious but I still couldn't understand the full destructive potential of the spell I had created merely on accident. Kaal on the other hand looked at me from his small eyes, probably evaluating the situation unfolding under his sight. He didn't too surprised and maybe he was just about equally interested in finding out what his little gamble to offer for us all. Of course any spell I would come up with might be of use for all warlocks inside the city's walls... Without another word he then took me over to the war quarters were the normal test dummies were situated.

Facing a row of three wooden shield bearers, I turned to Kaal again and told him that I did not want to destroy all of them at once and how I would rather prefer a single target that we maybe even could take with us to a large open space. Preferably outside the range of the priests and warriors residing there, but he only turned down my remarks and assured it would be okay even if I would damage all of them, no matter to what degree. With no way of convincing him instead of showing off what I had created I merely shrugged at him, I believe had warned him thoroughly enough.

Those fools, the whole time they were telling me how great I was and yet still they kept insisting on underestimating me. What a daft mistake to make...

At the time I unfortunately wasn't able to create the sort of fire I needed at will and I still had to fuel my rage for at least some time. Abandoning myself to the hatred again I informed the orc how I would need a moment to focus. He only answered that this would fine and that his own curiosity to see what I what I had in store for him would easily outweigh the waiting time.

Everything set up I began concentrating on the last few days. Slowly the anger inside my mind grew stronger, it turned into overwhelming hatred for the elf, but then even stronger hatred for myself rose up in me.

My hands engulfed in bright green flames as Kaal was looking at me as if this was a stupid trick to fool him into believing the impossible.

It took my everything to concentrate on forming a shadow bolt in this state of mine, not to mention merging it with the flames afterwards. And what seemed to take an eternity for me, in reality only took up a few seconds.

A jet of green flames then flew towards one of the test dummies at high velocity. The impact of the spell itself was rather weak, but the fiendish fire spread all over all my poor mindless test subjects, burning them to the ground, leaving not even ashes.

Whilst the fire was still eating away on the stone foundation of the city I turned back to Kaal awaiting a response from him, but he was still only staring at the bright green fire burning its way right through the wood and stone before I put it out with a single thought.

It took a moment until he had refocused again. At first I had the impression he did not really understand what he had been allowed to witness but then he grabbed me by the shoulders asking where I had learned to control demonic fire on my own. I told him nothing about the last few weeks, that part would remain to be my secret and my secret alone.

As I shook off the orc's grasp I suggested we made our way back to the mage quarter. It was around that time when I first wondered on which day exactly Kaal had started questioning the monster he had helped create.

As soon as we reached the temple again he bid me inside immediately. He said something about a drink and the opportunity so we could talk a bit more calmly and shielded from unwanted attention. Hearing this made me hope we would retreat to either his or perhaps my personal quarters, but no – actually quite the opposite applied.

We sat down at one of the largest tables in the general room and Kaal began babbling about the promise he had made to me. Not holding at bay any much longer he directly asked me whether I knew what a dreadsteed was. Of course at that time I had no idea of these majestic creatures. I simply hadn't been amongst the wicked madness of the warlocks long enough yet. And so Kaal opened up another secret kept by the nether. He first told be about Xoroth, the realm of the dreadsteeds, the mounts of the dreadlords or Nathrezim as they are also called a treacherous kind of fiends not seldom to roam the realms of the living and not too reluctant to make a bargain with a mortal. But that was not what this would be truly about...

There were not too many warlocks that had achieved to steal a demonic mount like these from the dreadlords over the course of their lives. It usually took far too long to gather and assemble all the small pieces required to solve this puzzle and not few of those who succeed at old age, died at hands of a Nathrezim. Yet knowing my prowess and ability he was quick to assure me that this creature – a dreadsteed would make a fine mount for me. Though something he kept quiet about, or maybe even did not know to begin with, were the added benefits of such a steed - It was of all races of course yet another demon obeying my every command and thus it would also have a certain effect on my ability to use and manipulate the shadows.

But it didn't stop at that. My orc mentor proved a little more resourceful... though I guess he was more of a signpost for me than an actual teacher. Anyhow..., furthermore Kaal continued to give me three things. A name - Mor'zul Bloodbringer, despite the sound of it a human; a place - one of the last few undamaged Altars of Storms located west of Blackrock Mountain, and a little bag full of goods. He insisted on me not opening the bag whatever might happen to me or it, but if I was able to keep it shut it would be of the utmost importance. I just would have to hand it over to Bloodbringer when I met him. Nothing more - Nothing less.

Little did I know at that moment that again a lot of travelling was about to be set into motion just by having this little chat with him. Naturally it was my rotten luck that the furthest the bats of Undercity went would be an outpost of the horde somewhere in the badlands south of Dun Morogh, home to the Ironforge dwarves with their reigning clan of the Bronzebeards. The mapmakers of Undercity, most of them valuing me as a customer by then told me probably the safest route from there on out. And still with this guidance I would have to pass through Blackrock Mountain on my way, a highly dangerous area with the home of the black dragon flight on its top as they put it. I on the other hand wasn't worried too much. The power bending at my command was far too great of a threat for any lizard to ever be on equal footing with me! Thus I embarked on my next quest...

After landing in Kargath a good couple of hours later, which was the name of the outpost, I summoned my felhunter and headed off to the west just as I had been told.

I left the badlands behind me through an old mountain pass and headed onwards through the Searing Gorge as it was called. And this name is about as accurate as one would ever get... The Dark Iron dwarves did their best to change the landscape according to their ideas of a 'home'.

As I had finally reached Blackrock, I stood in front of a large door. This definitely was dwarven architecture. How came everything they built was big enough to fit smaller giants despite their own size? It made me wonder even more if they did this so they would seem even smaller than before or if it was simply to make up for something they lacked.

The entire hallway opening up in front of me was made from only the finest black steel, but the real surprise awaited me after it took another two turns and then opened up into a large cavern.

I was speechless the first time I entered Blackrock Mountain. It almost seemed as if the whole thing had been hollowed out from the inside. A large circular way lead around it's center whilst large stone faces with beards of flowing lava were staring at me, keeping an eye out for the intruder that I clearly was. Driven by curiosity I stepped to the edge of the walkway and looked down right into a large pool of molten lava – a deathtrap waiting to spring. And in its middle – defying everything I had seen in my entire life - there was a large rock spire adorned by something that looked like an entrance directly in its middle. The only thing supporting it in this position were four gigantic statues of dwarves scattered throughout this huge cavern, each of them holding on to a chain crafted of solid dark iron in their firm everlasting grip. As I looked up above me I saw a rather young dragon of the black flight flying in wide circles through the cave.

With all these distractions it took me far too long to pass through the mountain. Everything inside of it was like a world of its own - untouched by the outside - free to roam the depths of old hallways, only urging oneself never to delve too deep.

After managing to reach the other side, I made the last few steps backwards having a last glance at the statues and the spire in the middle of this huge cavern. All in all... an image I would never forget.

The ashen planes outside to the south of Blackrock were not even half as appealing as the inside of the mountain. Everything out there was burned down, covered in ash and lone embers, small puddles of lava flowing down from steep slopes showing that the volcano that Black Rock once was still had not fully ceased to exist.

But all of it was only a minor distraction for me... for I had far greater things to achieve! As I descended down the slope, following a huge bridge crossing one of the many streams of lava, I was already able to spot the way I would be following towards my actual goal. And as soon as I had reached the end of it, I began following the road leading west from where I was without hesitation. It should bring me directly to the Altar of Storms built there during the second great war. Without doubt one of the many cursed places amongst us but I had only one path to follow, one way to go. And that way was my own future.

I never got too close to the altar though as I simply did not have to. Besides, I got a good view of it from afar anyhow, the way it was built and consisted of three large hooded figures, each of them holding a sword in front of their chest pointing downwards. Even for me there was something frightening about those... though I never found out why my instincts told me to fear them rather than to oppose. But I guess it won't matter now, does it?

The whole structure was built right in the center of a larger pool of lava. Yet the way I travelled on that day lead me somewhere else - up a small hill to be most precise. I was basically directly next to the altar, standing inside a small camp with the warlock who I was searching for and another of the green skinned goblin brats.

To my own surprise Bloodbringer already had a rather good idea what I would want from him after I introduced myself also letting the names Kaal and Undercity drop in the process. Without any hesitation whatsoever he offered me his aid in this matter, but he also didn't hold back telling me that usually many warlocks come here, but only a few returned alive, in short: the same things the orc had already opened up to me. He said that in the course of the recent last year many, many foolish ones had tried to obtain a dreadsteed, but only two people succeeded. Yet one of them died shortly afterwards due to fatal injuries dealt by the Nathrezim pursuing him into our realm.

What he didn't know was that he couldn't scare me with talk like that. I already was certain that this would all be not too difficult for me, merely another trifle on the way.

Without a further word I then stretched out my right arm holding the bag Kaal had given to me earlier. It was actually quite heavy holding it like that. Mor'zul only pointed at the goblin standing slightly off next to us. The little bugger then introduced himself as Gorzeeki Wildeyes, also a warlock of his own. He was the one who took the bag off me and took a first look inside it.

"Oh, I see... a prepared one... very nice indeed." Taking his sweet time he spread out everything from the bag on a table. "A solid bar of Arcanite - handy, three large brilliant shards – shiny, a bundle of roughly 30 black dragon scales – oh there's a big one and six Ghost Mushrooms as they are commonly known... What a pleasant surprise." The goblin looked around the chests and boxes that were all piled up around the encampment apparently searching for something. "Well then bold undead, only one thing is missing... Xorothian Stardust. We shall need it for the parchment to write the summoning on. Indeed a rare thing to acquire... very rare, very rare. Did I hear impossible? Nah... Yet still hard enough... But I just happen to know who in Azeroth might have some of it."

With a sleazy grin on his face the goblin then told me again about the dreadlords. There were supposedly only few left in this world, most of them had returned home to their own realm as our kingdoms deteriorated having done just the amount of damage they regarded as sufficient. Yet there are always those few that were persistent and wanted to see this world burn even further. Lord Banehollow, as he called himself for instance. He would be the 'person' needed.

But I only groaned in agony as soon as I heard where this demon was living - Jaedenar.

The goblin observing my reaction than gave me an elixir that would apparently fool the cultists of the Jaedenar into believing that I was one of them, but even then I should still remain careful for the dreadlord would surely see through the disguise. I never understood how it worked, but as long as it did its job I would not need to care about it. And in the worst case: I was sure my magic would still prove to be all I'd ever need.

Above that the goblin also filled me in on what I would have to do furthermore. He handed me a jar, nothing fancy – just simple pottery. At first I didn't understand the meaning of it as the goblin told me I would have to keep it closed under all circumstances and only open it once near the alchemical lab of Ras Frostwhisper, a lich dwelling deep inside the necromancers' school of Scholomance on the isle of Caer Darrow in the western plaguelands. How should I even know? But hearing the faint nagging coming from inside the little container gave it away after a while. The goblin casually added I should return with the imp in the jar afterwards and I needn't worry about the spell. The little demon would store the parchment it would create from the stardust next to him inside the jar.

This was the time when I started to really hate travelling thanks so things like those. You just have to love being sent around... don't you?

My journey back to Felwood took about two days using the fastest means of travel I could fall back to. Upon my arrival in the Emerald Sanctuary, the nightelves all seemed actually pretty glad to see me again. They really thought that I had come back just to help them on their quest to purify the land. I could not help but to pity the fools...

Again I did not pay too much attention to them and instead just headed out onto the road making my way towards the north, just as last time.

It took some time until I finally had reached the ruins of Jaedenar... again. On the way I was thinking about how tackle it this time, though my own thoughts would throw me off soon enough. What was I worrying about?

I might not trust the goblin warlock, but surely my own strength! And should this strange elixir actually work how it was supposed to I would even be able to avoid all the cultists just by drinking this one bottle of liquid. Anyhow it was worth a shot at it. Even better..., my felhunter by my side examined the bottle containing the green fluid that I would have to drink for me as I pulled it out of a bag fastened to my belt. He quickly stated that he did not know what it was made of, but that it would definitely not cause a magical illness or well, any kind of harm. That being said I downed the bottle directly after entering the grounds of the Shadow Council.

Stumbling about I fell to my knees as soon as the last drop of fluid had run down my throat and into my leaking stomach - oh my god, that tasted horrible. I had trouble to keep it in, even my rotten intestines wanted to throw it out as soon as possible. It tasted somewhat on the likes of rotten fish and elderberries, at least those are the things my mouth would assign to it... But on the upper hand side of things it seemed to work already. One of the cultists came running towards me asking if everything was alright. He even went so far to call me brother and I was rather sure that I had zero orcs amongst my relatives.

The Shadow Council had definitely grown again since my last visit. All the cultists I had killed had been replaced, hopefully with sufficient apprentices and even worse.., a lot more people were swarming the grounds and the underground structure called shadow hold.

What hadn't changed was the fact how easy it was to get lost inside the caves and caverns of the shadow hold. I guess I got lost track of my way at least a couple of times because I was too much in a hurry that day. I still somehow envisioned me changing continents and travelling into the western plaguelands that fast.

As I continued my way down into the depths of the earth I had already went far past all the rooms I had seen the last time I had been in there. Though it all looked so alike that I only noticed the completely new territories I ventured upon once I came through a larger room with a stone table adorning its middle, the corpse of a man lying on it, slowly rotting away. Sacrificial or just for fun, no matter - it was a messy place...

The hallway behind it was continuing to lead further downwards and soon opened up into an even larger cave. An old orcish warlock, not too distant from Kaal in his apparel was standing in the center of the room with two succubi by his side. At least that one guy seemed to be more than just your average warlock. He looked at me and grunted dismissive the moment I tried to pass through. For a second I was in fear he could have maybe seen through my disguise and I prepared myself for an all-out attack on him without hesitation if he would try to do something conspicuous, but instead he only pointed towards the way behind him, telling me in a dark and raspy voice that his master was up there waiting for me.

As I had been the one to underestimate them I was surprised for a good moment. Many questions arose inside of me, most fuelled by my own foolishness. What the...? Waiting for me? Why? But if they knew I was no member of the cult why did they still refrain from attacking me?

From that point onwards I didn't let my guard down for a single second. The path at the end of the room was winding upwards into yet another cave system. And just as I had reached the upper level of this one too, I saw that I was standing on only the first of three large platforms all connected by various bridges. Followed by the strange feeling of being watched my felhunter began to snarl as we approached the final platform. And for a first time my own feelings turned into something more than simply restlessness or unease... I began to sense the demonic presence in this area. I dare not describe it, for it remains beyond the frail mind of a mage to understand but rest assured... it is just as wicked as you might imagine.

But as I had already come that far, I knew I had to keep on going. I had dealt with stronger offspring of the nether before!

The way how all the platforms around me were heavily populated by lesser demons and cultists meant nothing to me, I did not even pay any attention as the last one was almost completely deserted contrasting those before. A sole lonely orc was standing there next to an old elven pavilion doing literally nothing. He did not speak nor move on his own – he was just a mindless puppet attached to some strings.

Then as the silence around me reached its height, I heard the voice echoing inside my mind.

"I was awaiting you, Warlock. I knew that you would return sooner or later and I also know why you came back. But tell me in your own words: Why did you come back after the heavy losses you brought upon my precious cultists, do you want to throw salt into the bleeding wound? Add insult to my injuries?" I looked around not able to spot the demon anywhere close by. It made me wonder where he might be standing, from where he might be whispering to me. The voice itself almost sounded caring for his little puppets, the ill-minded puppeteer worrying about his playthings but as these thoughts grazed my mind from only afar he then suddenly shouted at me in all his anger and wrath. "You are only one of many! All of you idle fools seeking to steal a dreadsteed of Xoroth! You shall suffocate on your own greed!" Yet to my great surprise the tone shifted once again. "But... I am willing to make you an offer. A bargain I insist you should consider! You..., you are not as weak as the other warlocks of this dying world. Most of those now lie dead in the chasm behind you, together with the filth they belong to! Worthless rats and underlings trying to be something they aren't! They challenged me and were destroyed completely, to now feed a different kind of pet I keep - the living ooze at the bottom of the cave."

I held back and did not respond with a single word. Everything he said made me want to fight him too, he made it only worse for himself. And ever since I had been become able to summon the infernal into this world, my lust for blood grew stronger with every day to pass. He pushed it only further... made me want to see if he was really as strong as he claimed to be.

"I shall be willing to give you what you seek, if you will do a favor for me. As of only recently, not without doubt due to your intrusion I need to dispose of one of my most troublesome followers. The orc Ulathek is plotting something against me with his new found master and my rival, Lord Hel'nurath! Kill him! Kill him and bring me his heart! This should feed my anger and serve as an excellent treat on the side..."

I could not really be bothered with it but still I wondered what he meant by the last part of his sentence, although I had no real interest in hearing the answer. I just nodded, assuming that the demon would see my gesture and then I turned around tending to the search for this orc that he mentioned. You just have to hate orcish names, if you don't have the teeth like they do, then you'll never be able to pronounce it as it's meant to be... You'd better have those damned tusks...

I started asking my way through the caverns of Jaedenar right away and it took a while until finally stumbled upon one of the cultists who would point out where this Ulathek was on his own. His chambers were fairly near to the entrance of the shadow hold which meant for me that I had to go through the whole structure at least two more times. What a nuisance...

But sadly that wasn't all. I found the orc in his chamber, unfortunately alongside with four guards keeping a close watch, two to his left and two standing to his right. But actually... well, I didn't care too much about them... I charged up a normal shadow bolt with my right hand just as like with any other opponent. As I sent the violet jet of light towards the right pair of guards I ordered my felhunter to attack the left ones. The shadow bolt penetrated the torso of the first unlucky one with ease also taking down the second one standing behind him only seconds later.

With his protection downed so quickly Ulathek turned to face me. His eyes were clearly showing the fear of death or at least torment.

"Banehollow sent you? I - I can offer you something better than he did! Just let me live! I will make it worth your while!"

Wretched dog! He betrayed his master here in Jaedenar and by then he was willing to betray his master in the realm of Xoroth on the whim of an outsider! Such scum did not deserve to live. A basic curse on him brought him to his knees quickly. A close range shadow bolt above his neck as a follow-up ended his worthless existence within the split of a second.

Yet something I had not accounted for would soon make my life just a little bit harder: I haven't even had a knife on me to cut out the heart. Looking around in the room luckily brought up a solution. I found something at least rather similar to a knife, a sharpened stone... How primitive and below me.

The bloody organ resting in the palm of my hand I carelessly ripped off some of the cloth of the orc's robe so I had something to carry it in. It reminded me again why I hated tasks like that. By then I was covered over and over in orc blood. And if the cultists in there wouldn't rip me apart for this murder then the grunts of Orgrimmar would do so for sure.

With the rags I carried in my left hand I left a trail of blood behind me, marking my exact way back into the depths. Why do I always end up with menial tasks like this to pursue?

I didn't want to waste any further time and quickly passed through the hallways and caves of the Shadow Hold until I reached the cave with the platforms yet again. I make my way up and took the bridges over to the third of them with the orc still standing there, swaying slightly back and forth. I took the chance to have another brief look around, wondering where the demon could be hiding, for I knew it had been close by all the time.

"Excellent... I started to taste the sweet heart of a traitor on my lips from the moment you spilled his blood. Give the heart to my servant and you shall receive your part of our deal."

Although I didn't trust the demon I drew closer to the hypnotized orc and exchanged the bloody rags for a small amount of dust or sand. It was hardly enough to cover a fingertip. The moment I took another pointless step towards the orc a swarm of bats rose as high into the air as possible, fluttering out of reach to the upper parts of the room. The voice in my head now seemed suddenly more distant. "You have what you wanted, now go! Go and never come back! I assure you it's enough, I gave you twice as much as any other! BEGONE foul thing!"

I looked up to the swarm of bats as the voice still echoed through my mind, one of them clearly larger than the rest. It gazed down at me from gleaming red eyes.

"So there you are... Still avoiding me?" I asked straight out. "Pathetic...!"

I turned around and made my way out of the structure. I've never heard of a dreadlord that would be afraid of a mere mortal warlock... This had all turned out to be so ridiculous all of a sudden.

Just for the heck of it I decided on killing a few cultists on my way out. That demon had me really fired up on killing someone or at least something... preferable him of course. Yet with that one certain possibility already out of option his underlings would have to suffice for the moment.

But it got worse: Getting back to the Undercity turned out to be even more stressful than I could have imagined... The grunts of Orgrimmar had almost taken me into custody upon picking up the smell of blood from their own kin splattered all over my robes. It took a while for me to convince them that the poor fool who had to die by my hands had been a member of the shadow council and not one of their pig farmers. It proved especially hard due to the fact that none of the grunts was able to either read or let alone say the words 'Shadow Council'.

As I was finally on the Zeppelin to Undercity after threatening my way through the city I dropped into a quiet corner, hoping I'd be able to relax for a moment and wished that none of the goblin-type minor accidents would occur. My felhunter decided to take the place to my side, carefully watching over this most un-trustworthy crew. But it turned to be like it always was... instead of relaxing my thoughts were eager to stroll off to somewhere else. And so I came to use the spare time to ask my demon a few things about the nature of these so-called dreadlords. If any of the people I knew would be able to answer this question then it had to be either a Nathrezim himself or my felhunter. The loyal pet he was, Thoonum told me that one usually could not trust them, except for in certain scarce moments, when they are in fear of their own life more than anything else and a bargain was out of the question. Above that they, not matter what, will always try to gain at least some profit of the situation. This showed itself in many ways, but most prominently in the fact that they were the only demons that usually spoke in the language of the ones opposing them, not their own.

As I continued to talk with Thoonum, I began to question the origin of this 'Stardust' the Dreadlord gave to me – for obvious reasons. Yet my felhunter was quick to clearly state how this sand really came from the realm of Xoroth. Just hearing it was a certain relief for me at the time. Otherwise I would have been forced to venture yet again into that dreadful ruin...

Any last doubt finally cast aside I focused onto the next step of the plan. And as soon as we reached the ever so bleak Tirisfal I felt to urge to head out to Caer Darrow immediately. I did not yet know what would await me inside the necromancer's den – what I did understand was the importance of the place. Anyways... this was all taking far too long already and it turned night yet again. I told myself that this compelling feeling was simply my own desire to get this over with as fast as possible. Besides... it was obvious how this demonic steed would be a fair mount for me and ease the whole travelling up a lot – a thing I began hating with every bone left in my body.

The road towards the east seemed to be stretching out far longer than I had remembered. But to be fair, quite some time had passed since I went through or even only into the plaguelands for the last time. I had rejected every assignment that would have led me there and avoided everything that had something to do with these areas. And even still somehow everything of that lingered on. It meant nothing much anymore, felt meaningless to an extent, but it had still been there with me.

A small outpost of the Argent Dawn now flanked the borderlines from Tirisfal to the western plaguelands as I found out while passing by. I decided to follow the road as long as possible, until I would eventually be directly north of Caer Darrow. One of the farmers who had lived there surely must have possessed a boat to get to the peninsula. The country itself wasn't too dangerous for me anymore though I still would try anything so I wouldn't have to go straight through Andorhal. There were too many undead inside the ruins of the city and all too strong or at least too pesky for comfort. I just couldn't be bothered with it at the time. Maybe I was even too much of a coward back then. Looking at it from the perspective I have now, I would say it should have been simple enough to march directly through the center of it all and not get a single scratch.

But well, my little insolent prayers had been heard and I found a boat at the farm directly to the north of the Darrowmere Lake. Not keen on losing any more time, me and my felhunter got into the old wooden thing and after setting it free from the old bonds tying it down we finally were on our way over to the peninsula. It can be seen as a rather large lake, though fortunately it didn't take too long to get to Caer Darrow, for it lay right in the middle of it. The image of the full moon reflecting on the smooth surface of the lake as we silently glided towards our goal.

Upon reaching the sudden eruption of land in midst the surprisingly vast plot of water I tied the boat to one of the many footbridges once used to land all kinds of goods for the city and made my way up to the houses. If you'd take a look from a different perspective the peninsula would prove to actually be a little hill with its top reaching out of the water. And right on its highest point, man once decided to place a stronghold which ultimately gave this town its name.

Of course by then, or rather even by now, all of this remains to be little more than a sweet and forgotten story, a tale not worth to be told whilst the remains of the apparently once lush city lay in ruins - all the houses completely or at least partly destroyed. The final truth of this prominent, yet desolate realm's demise found right in front of me: the doors to the once so proud stronghold cracked open.

I felt little pity for the weakness of the past and entered the ruins driven by my own ends.

"Oh come on...", was what I thought as I stumbled into yet another doorway, though this one heavily locked and apparently freshly crafted. It hid itself away behind a short flight of steps and a corner, keeping the way down shut for unwanted visitors. Again another nuisance I would have to deal with...

Wanting to leave this place as quickly as possible I blasted off the lock with a shadow bolt.

To my surprise there was nothing magical about this door at all, rendering a good amount of silent thoughts and fears from the back of my head pointless. It seemed the inhabitants of the Scholomance were not too scared of visitors, either due to their own foolishness or arrogance. Either of the two would do.

But... I didn't came to this place to eradicate the whole necromancers' school. After all... I only wanted to get to the alchemists lab of that strange lich in the basement. Maybe they would let me borrow a few of their ingredients if I only nicely asked my thoughts began taunting them for me. For a pleasant surprise on the other side of the door the facility seemed to be guarded in a proper way. As I turned into the hallway four skeletal warriors greeted me with their wide and lip-less smile.

I took out all four of them easily, which again left me wondering if that really would be all they had to offer as a resistance. But it did not matter too much. It would only make things easier for me, would it not? So I opened the metal gate leading down into the next room. From where I found myself by then I could oversee everything in this large room. Two stone stairs led down to the lower level which looked surprisingly like a library. The whole area was festered with ghosts, skeletons and acolytes of the Scourge and I could not hold back but wonder whether I could fool them into letting me to their lab without having to fight and kill every single one of them or not. Not that I wouldn't have thought of both possible ways to carry on as sufficiently amusing, but it, well..., would have most likely taken far too long. And I wasn't even considering what might have happened if I got carried away...

Anyways... a single acolyte was standing next to the stairs to my right. I threw a leftover bone from the skeletons down the stairs to lure him up to me. "Not again... damn skeletons, always brawling for no reason..." I heard how he mumbled as he came closer.

He wouldn't let go of it and continued his rant on his way up. I for my part, used the few spare seconds on my hands and hid behind the door's frame hoping he wouldn't see me on entering this part of the room.

He was too startled to scream as I jumped at him from behind a shadow bolt at the ready and burning its way right through his face. I actually had already gotten better at close range combat like this, the robe he was wearing wasn't damaged in the slightest way, not even a bit singed. That was proof enough of my improvement if you'd ask me. But I had more important things to worry about at that time... I hurried to get it off the dead body and pulled it straight over my own robe. The final step would be dismissing my felhunter in order to make the disguise work.

I approached one of the acolytes without hesitation, if they were so unlucky to see through the guise they would have to pay with their life. I was at least somewhat confident how everybody in this room was only a minor threat for me.

To my surprise and likewise delight the disguise worked as it was supposed to and the acolyte told me the shortest way to the lab of Frostwhisper outright. I wondered whether they could sense how strong I was or if there already was an order given around that they should not attack me in order to save their own lives rather than blindly follow some duty. Though I could hardly imagine that any of the two would be the truth at least one had to be right.

As I made my way through the Scholomance no one even bothered questioning my origin or what I wanted in the lab, they even went so far to unlock the door to it for me. It was quick and easy... too easy.

The room I was led to containing the lab was surprisingly spacious for a former crypt coming together with a high ceiling. I entered through the large doorway as it opened magically the moment I stood right in front of it and closed again behind me. The room was divided in two parts. In the first part everything was lit by a gloomy green light. This area was heavily populated by all kinds of alchemical instruments and fluids of various colors. This was obviously the place where I was supposed to let out the imp and get it to do its part. After having a short look around, I set the jar down on to the ground and opened it. Quickly a long crocked nose appeared out of the bottle neck, followed by the thin face of the imp and its long elven-like ears. The demon happily jumped out of his prison. One thing I noticed was its size - it was particularly smaller than the normal imps I knew, although I guess it was about equally lively.

The imp then started its work squealing about his damned life inside a jar being rented to strangers with a certain affinity to death for low money by a goblin.

Meanwhile I continued looking around the room. Something about the far back of it seemed rather interesting. A large stone altar was in the middle of that part with candles scattered out all over it. Curiosity as strong as always inside me, I wanted to get closer and have a better look at it, though I also began noticing something else rather soon... It felt as if it was getting colder with every step I took towards this altar. The imp behind me began squealing angrily ... that I should be careful and not go any further. But he gave up on it already after maybe one or two warnings. I should suit myself the little creature said, probably hoping that my death would grant his wretched existence the freedom it so longed for.

What nonsense, I thought. This school, as it was called, it had nothing to offer for me – neither anything to learn, nor to fear.

Two columns, one on each side, pointed out where the symbolical border was that divided the room in two. I took an eager step passed the columns and was greeted by an ice cold air current. But where the hell did the wind even be coming from?

I heard a snigger and swiftly spun around, trying to find whom or what it came from. "Who is there?" I called out with a faint trail of sudden despair. No response followed upon my hollow words, only the laughter grew ever so slightly louder. "Show yourself! Who are you?" I demanded as shouted blindly at the gloomy darkness.

A sudden voice arose from nowhere...

"I am the owner of this very tomb you are standing in front of. I am the master over ice and shadows alike and I am the owner of this school. I am the protector of the pathetic acolytes in the rooms above us... I AM THE IMMORTAL, the lich Ras Frostwhisper!" The voice was hollow, far from anything I had ever heard before. And the moments the words were spoken a faint blue light drove away the shadows from behind the tomb as the creature known to me as Ras Frostwhisper slowly came gliding towards me. It was the first time for me to ever see a lich with my own eyes...

The creature was clearly formed from the bones of a human body, yet it had no legs or feet at all. It simply had no use for them anymore as it was hovering in mid-air. The upper body seemed almost completely normal, yet the head was surrounded by some sort of crown made of the spare bones. It's... or rather his eyes were shining in a piercing, icy blue. The whole creature looked rather fragile, yet it also seemed to be surrounded by some sort of magic barrier. I couldn't really tell at that time, but I felt it... I just knew I wouldn't be able to lay even only a scratch on him.

This entity stopped several feet in front of me whilst the air around me continued freezing, this ... cold. It was piercing enough for even me to feel it.

"My acolytes are not yet ready to die in bloody combat, for that I ordered them to stand down and let you pass through without any hostility or opposition. They still need to ripen just a little bit longer..." The lich explained calmly. He seemed to be more a man of words instead of action at this hour. "I know that you have what you came for and in my generosity I shall allow you to leave this place once. Though should you be so foolish and ever decide to return, to come here a second time – you will either join the cult at once or have your wish for immediate death granted. And in either case I will appoint myself to that personally." Frostwhisper made a short pause. "Also... if you deny my offer and insult my hospitalities by attacking even only a single one of my acolytes on your way out, no matter how worthless he might be, I will freeze you in your tracks wherever you stand and shatter your frozen body without hesitation. This is my realm and you should be aware of my might within these walls!" After hearing his words everything around me grew even colder than before. The whole world seemed to be freezing over. "Now... should you wish to fight me immediately... do so. I know of your heated nature and I am little but not prepared. Yet I shalt assure you one thing: you will not be able to win - for I am immortal. Strike me down, burn my remains to ashes with your spells and cast them into the winds, do whatever you please - I will not perish! I will return and my wrath will destroy you!"

Immortality..?

I remained silent for the moment as a few stray thoughts began to dawn on me ever so slowly. Aside from that I knew everything I could say would only provoke the lich. And I didn't know if it had been only his words or if there might have been more to his appearance but I knew he was right. I wouldn't be able win this fight, not yet at least.

Behind me the imp had finally finished its menial task and reluctantly jumped back into the little jar, closing its lid behind him. I made the first few steps backwards, not taking my eyes of the lich. Some parts of me wanted to test this 'immortality' he spoke about so openly really badly, but I was too afraid to do so – to channel the spell which would land the first strike. This was the first time for a very long while that I sensed something close to fear. That lingering sensation of cold sweat... I couldn't say I missed it.

As I made my way out of the complex all the acolytes I encountered offered me looks far darker than before. I wasn't sure whether they tried to find something to hate about me and possibly grow stronger or if they just wanted judge me, find out if I might be a worthy rival. My own thoughts were as dark as they used to be, blood spilled. Wouldn't that be suitable proving? But it all was broken up so suddenly as I passed by a group of eager students maybe a step too closely and one of them seized my shoulder.

I turned towards the acolyte with a certain rage inhabiting me and found myself staring into two ice-blue and likewise cold eyes.

"Remember my words, warlock. I shalt not repeat myself!" The acolyte whispered in a distorted voice, jumping through different tones.

Panic rearing his ugly head I shook off the hand and jumped backwards. I didn't even question what I had just witnessed, all that mattered was for me to hurry and leave the Scholomance. Making things only worse on the whole way out of the catacombs I heard the manic laughter of the lich following me.

I slammed the outer door of the Scholomance shut behind me and backed off as fast as I could. No stopping me I rushed to the boat that was still tied to the docks hoping it would get me off the peninsula without any complications. And luckily it did. It was not any earlier than the moment as I reached the other side of the Darrowmere Lake that I took the time to summon my felhunter. Not before then I was able to fully regain my composure.

Afterwards there was not left to do but to get back to the Undercity, I had to catch a flight to Kargath after all. And as driven as I was I had already shaken off the fear and only wanted to find out what I would have to do next.

Over the whole way, first to Undercity and then to Kargath I could only wonder if the lich had really spoken the truth. My sudden fright of his superior magic, although it pains me to admit, pushed to the side and quickly forgotten I focused on the more important things...

Immortality

How was that even possible? Though on the other hand..., was strength like mine even worth to achieve? Wasn't I still weak? Frail and brittle like ice as spring reaches northern lands? And even if I was to overcome these flaws..., I knew that it would still have to perish eventually, even though my life as a Forsaken would last far longer and withstand incomprehensible more hardships than that of an average human, orc or even elf.

The same thoughts came to me over and over again. They began circling through the beat up mind I was bestowed with. What should I carry on to do?

Or maybe, what should I better not do?

The time I needed to get to the Altar of Storms seemed to pass faster while I was caught in my own thoughts, yet the moment upon entering the cavern of Blackrock Mountain I focused again on to the present moment. I savored it for whatever reason...

I lived this life of undeath with a certain rush although I all the time I would ever need even despite the fact that death is not as eternal as it might seem.

To get from Blackrock Mountain to the Altar of Storms and the camp of the two more or less rogue warlocks did not take me too long. I handed the jar to the goblin after greeting both of them properly without any spoken words. And following the opener I commenced and didn't spill a single word about meeting the Lich named Frostwhisper. The warlocks wouldn't have left me with too much time to talk anyhow as the human of the two, Mor'zul, handed me a book I would find myself in need of – filled to the bursting with instructions for the summoning ritual I was to conduct. Then the goblin stepped up to me and gave me four more things: a golden bell, a strange looking wheel made of black iron, a candle and the sheet of paper with a single formula on it written clearly in blood.

Mor'zul then went ahead to tell me in short what I would have to do; how I would need all of these materials to conduct a successful summoning, tearing the steed over from Xoroth into this realm and severing its bond to its demonic master. Yet the real difficulty in this world was not to gather the ingredients, but to find and get to a suitable place where you were actually able to summon such a creature.

You are need of an area that is already filled with tremendous demonic energy to an extent that both realms almost start blending into each another. And this was something you could not achieve with a simple summoning circle, no matter how big or strong it was.

Yet still with odds against me I was the lucky one.

Because of Kaal's gift for me I was able to hand over the materials for the three items I now had received, that I would have needed anyhow, to the goblin warlock immediately, of which I had not known anything until that moment just before. This had left the two of them with some time to make out places in Azeroth that would be most suitable for such a summoning.

Fortunately or maybe even unfortunately there was one or maybe two to three places in this world where the summoning should not fail. The problem about this was... I would most likely have to travel to Feralas, a jungle in the southern part of Kalimdor, west of Thousand Needles. There I would find the place yielding most chances of success.

So basically what this meant for me was that I had to go back the whole way north to Undercity, head for Orgrimmar and then south into Feralas. I wanted little more but to scream out loud in frustration upon hearing this, but I was able to restrain myself in the last second.

Despite noticing my clear ill anticipation Wildeyes told me that the place of which they were talking about was to be found inside the ancient elven city of Eldre'Thalas. It was once a flourishing metropolis of wisdom and only the wisest of the nightelves were allowed to live there or even only enter the great library. Those elves soon were called by the name Shen'dralar, and without doubt they were probably amongst the most intelligent beings this world had ever set its eyes upon and buried them afterwards under the ages.

However, intelligence is about as far from wisdom as a mountaintop is from the sea... these elves devoured tremendous amounts of magical energy with all the pointless little things they used to keep their city up and running, and so it came that one day the prince of these elves had an idea to solve all their pesky little problems in one fell swoop.

He envisioned how they would draw their energy directly from a great demon. A despicable battery filled with all the hate and wrath of this world so to speak... And so the elves of Eldre'Thalas created one of the largest and most potent summoning circles that had ever been inside their halls. In this they gave in to their prince's madness and summoned a demon hound known by the name of Immol'thar. Yet soon enough the fel-energy of the demon infested some of the elves close to it and they slowly began their transformation into what we know imprison and fear for ourselves. Something we now know better as satyrs.

As the elven civilization slowly perished under the influence of the demonic energy, ogres took over the northern part of the city with ease and the Shen'dralar barricaded all the paths to other parts of the city leaving them cornered in their library where this seed of lunacy once had been planted . The demon known as Immol'thar deceased already several tenths years ago, leaving its corpse behind inside the prison still full of demonic fuel. The Shen'dralar on the other hand, despite of the fact how they had been basically the guardians of almost all the knowledge from the elder times, grew more and more insane on their own. Those without a ravaged body had fallen to their own minds... And wasn't before long that the whole city would be renamed to Dire Maul after the ogres had outnumbered the elves and demons by a fair bit.

As a last hint Mor'zul also told me that it should be probably the safest to enter the western part of the city first. This was also the area I would find the former prison of Immol'thar, therefore the place where I would have to conduct the ritual in the end anyhow. The rest of Dire Maul was no use for me and only a waste of time so to speak.

I briefly thanked the two warlocks for their help and bid them farewell. They on the other hand wished me the best of luck and the ability to make wise decisions. I guessed they already knew that we would never meet again, for one reason or the other...

But just as I wanted to leave them, the goblin of the unlikely duo made me the biggest present they could have ever have. And all that by simply yelling something after me..., how the horde had established a small outpost somewhere along the northern part of this valley with a possibility to get even to Booty Bay. The moment I heard it I immediately changed my plans and headed for this unknown outpost.

In retrospect it may have taken a while to find it and the lives of a good couple of dragon whelps, but I reached the outpost in the late afternoon of that same day and they actually had Wyverns there which would be able to carry me over to Booty Bay.

And just like that I arrived in the goblin city in the evening hours just on time to board the last ship for the day heading to Ratchet. Of course I hurried along the docks to get onto it... I would have the whole next day for resting purposes, considering the route it would be taking.

I arrived in Ratchet in the late afternoon of the following day with none of my demons by my side for various reasons. Thoonum of all things would get seasick, Belmon would always try to jump into the water because it was nicely bluish and dark in its endless depths, my imp was simply too annoy for comfort and Darnys? Well... I actually was a bit afraid of what might happen if I called her out now. I hadn't summoned her a single time since that... thing... with Calystea. I don't know... I didn't want to push my chances I guess.

A pair of Wyverns already waiting for me to choose from I then decided to head for Feralas directly and wait with summoning a demon until I was there. The creature travelled fast, just as I liked it the most, it even took a kind of shortcut over the mountaintops of the barrens.

We set down and landed in a tauren settlement called Camp Mojache; a place which would soon turn to be an outpost right at frontline of the Horde-Alliance conflicts. And now that we were sufficiently far away from any larger body of water I summoned my felhunter again.

Everything minor settled I then had to find out to get to Dire Maul the easiest and to my surprise I quickly found someone who would help me with getting there. 'Just follow the road', the Tauren grunted at me. It wasn't much of a lead but at least it was precise.

Feeling safe enough with this little help I received I did as I was told and fortunately it really turned out to be the best and easiest way to get to the ruins of Eldre'Thalas. The trail of stones I followed wound itself through the broken yet lush landscape. I passed through underneath the roots of giant trees and to the side of waterfalls but as soon as I had climbed the first hill, the old and shattered city appeared in the distance. From that point on all I had to do was to follow the obvious landmarks. Old pillars, large chunks of pristine white stone and the occasional corpse of an ogre lead me straight to its outer walls. Strangely enough it wasn't until I entered the outer ruins of the former city that I noticed the extremely high number of ogres appearing around me. Yet what should I say? In the end I was able to kill off any of the brutes that dared to oppose me with ease. Most of the time if there were three or more close to each other it turned out to be enough to kill a single one of them. The rest usually fled to save their own lives, not looking back even once.

With this tactic and mindset I came to an inner gate of the city rather fast. I passed through it and entered a courtyard which was, no surprise, also festering with the bulk-ish ogres.

Having still a good idea of which direction I was facing I began looking around in the western part of this area and was soon to find yet another door. It appeared locked, but why should I care about something like that...? I blasted it open with one of my spells and entered the hallway behind it anyways.

I travelled along the newly revealed path for a few minutes before I came to another, smaller courtyard, a shattered pylon made of white crystal standing in between a group of dead and dried out trees. I walked past the strange bleak monument and came to a large staircase leading downwards with again a heavy door, yet this one standing widely open to anybody. Was it a trap I wondered?

On the lower level a dead tree elemental was lying there, rotting away like the plant it represented, its body would probably soon vanish to the elemental plane, or at least decompose. I didn't think about it too much without having even the slightest idea for how long it had already been lying there.

The smaller hallway in front of me I could enter through the doorway seemed to be safe too. Something about this place was so obviously wrong... It took me about a minute or so before I was thrown out into a large open hall. I had never thought such a thing exist... It blew everything I had ever seen completely out of proportion. Somewhere to my far right I could see another one of those shattered pylons in the distance. And the longer I think about it... that hall was probably at least as big as the whole city of Orgrimmar.

Right in its middle my eyes came to rest on a circular structure limited by hundreds of columns that were arranged in a perfect circle leaving about as much room for three people passing through next to each other.

Inside this monumental building a small staircase led down maybe half a meter or so onto a green area with real grass growing there, only a few inches close to the center seemed strangely scorched. And in said middle of the whole structure there was another circle, this one completely made of stone, yet with a light violet tinge to it. No demon corpse around though, still I was sure this had to be the right place. I was able to feel the demonic energies around me, how they pushed me beyond borders of my own strength I didn't even know they existed before.

From the moment on that I had approached the columns I had heard strange voices... whispers following me. Quite fond of my own sanity I decided to have a look around before I started off with the ritual.

And it didn't take too long for me to get an idea of who was making the strange sounds. From the middle of the room I could see an elf sitting in between two of the columns flapping his arms wildly up and down. At first I could hardly anything but give him a strange look. But soon I began approaching him. He was clearly a nightelf and had long green hair on top of a dark violet skin color.

"Are you of the Shen'dralar?" I simply asked the strange elf.

Yet he only looked up at me in bewilderment, tilting his head sideways into a strange angle and stopped moving his arms for a brief moment.

"I am rowing!" He answered and continued flapping his arms to his heart's content.

What on earth? I made a few steps backwards and stepped back into the stone circle. I didn't take my eyes of the crazy pathetic elf, still not sure if he might have been only mocking me. On my way back into the center I bumped straight into another one of them. Where he came from, I could not tell...

"Yeti, yeti, yeti!" He shouted at me leaving me utterly clueless of what he might want. Then the elf who had told me he was rowing suddenly jumped to his feet pointing at the one behind me screaming.

"NOOO, it's a duck!" after that he started running away. The elf standing behind me then went on a chase running after him.

I looked at the scene not sure what to say or think and stood there probably with my mouth open for a couple of moments. But I also knew it wasn't the time to idly stand around... I had to focus again and came to the conclusion that it would be the best if I just started the ritual and don't mind the idiot elves too much. They would most likely flee should a demon appear so close by. Besides getting the steed fast would only grant me the opportunity to get away from that place faster. Having hesitated enough I opened the book of Mor'zul and followed the instructions as they read.

The exact moment I placed the candle on the floor in its place it lighted itself. The bell started to hover in mid-air upon releasing it and the wheel started spinning the same moment I opened up the Scroll for the ritual. Thoonum also began snarling the moment I read the first few words. I don't know what this language was, but it definitely was not Eredrun. I could not understand a single word, though my felhunter apparently did...

I read the text out loud from the scroll only once, just like the instructions said I should. And after a short while violet runes seemed to appear on the stone floor one after the other. They started to form a circle as in the middle of it the shadow of a horse appeared. For the first couple of moments it looked rather normal, but with every rune that was added the image became clearer and less that of a 'normal' animal. Soon you could tell that this was no ordinary steed. It had long spikes on its body, the head adorned by several horns, a mane of fire and a skin of black scales.

"TRESPASSER!" A loud voice filled the hall. "Minions! Kill him! He is out to steal a steed of mine!"

Small portals opened up as the seventh rune appeared. Imps jumped out of them charging at me. I screamed out loud in sudden outburst of anger. They wouldn't stop me now that I was this close. A nova of fire emitted from the place where I stood burning every one of the imps to mere ashes. A waste of demonic energy...

"Guards! Crush him!" A few felguards then came rushing from the portals. Every one of them was hit by a separate shadow bolt of mine as a welcoming to this realm, taking them out one after the other without major problems. The ninth rune appeared and the horse materialized in this realm.

"You are mine now!" I let the steed know and another shadow bolt flew at the demon, killing it too with a clean shot. But it did not die like the cannon-fodder sent at me before. Instead a frail spirit was rising from its body, flickering from energy of this place. According to the instructions I had the only thing left to do now was to touch it.

My eyes were focused solely on the ghostly appearance. I stretched out my arm to reach for it.

Yet the moment I came almost close to it something grabbed my wrist.

"You will never get one of my steeds!" I looked at the creature seizing my arm. "For I am Lord Hel'nurath! I will first take your arm for this insolence and then take your worthless life for the effort!" The dreadlord was grabbing my wrist tightly. His body was surprisingly similar to a human, except for maybe the hooves, horns on the head and the wings on his back. At least a lot closer to a mortal than Varimathras in Undercity poses to be.

Everything from that point on happened incredibly fast, far too fast for Thoonum to even interfere. The dreadlord put his left leg against my waist and with one strong pull he ripped my arm clean off and right out of the joint, knocking me backwards to the ground. It took a moment for the pain to kick in in this rotten body. I screamed in agony, not knowing why this was happening. Not even realizing how my senses were fooling me like that. Such a bastard...

"Pathetic..." The dreadlord announced as he threw the life-less arm over his shoulder taking a few more steps towards me. "You have no idea who you are dealing with worthless worm..!"

Luckily my felhunter caught the Nathrezim off guard in just that short moment, taking him to the ground by tackling him from the side. I was still wincing in agony as I got up. I was too busy trying to condemn myself for being so foolish to go near the horse without paying any attention to my surroundings, to push the pain aside. It was only due to the effort of Thoonum that he kept the Dreadlord at bay for a short moment, giving me this short window of opportunity. Lead by a certain despair I threw everything else into the wind and hurried up to the spirit of the horse so I could touch it. Maybe this would ease the pain I hoped, but quite the contrary applied. The spirit vanished into nothingness, maybe inside my body I would find it. But more importantly from one moment to the other my mind was flooded with pain yet again. Only mere seconds later everything finally blacked out.

I cannot tell you for how long I was lying there on the floor, as I don't know myself. All I can tell is that I dreamed of me falling into an endless black abyss. It was as if ages were passing leaving me with only two to do: falling and waiting for me to die.

I woke up on the floor of a huge library. My head still aching, I grabbed onto it with both my hands, fearing it might either fall apart or be gone entirely.

Then I noticed... realizing was like a shock for. Not too negative but still... My arm was attached! But..., but does that mean this whole fight was only a dream? Did I go through all of this for nothing? The longer I thought about it the more it came to be a possibility... yet ... no, that couldn't be. There was something I couldn't explain otherwise: all of a sudden I knew a spell that would summon a dreadsteed - or at least potentially. I would still have to try it, yet it gave me enough reason to be sure it all had not only been a dream.

Thoonum was sitting next to me, looking at me from the moment on that I had woken up, although I still did not really know where his eyes were or if he even had some or not.

As I got up to my feet, my whole body still hurt like hell. Thoonum then slowly started feeding my ravaged mind the information that I was lacking. He told me that the fight ended with the dreadlord fleeing, leaving me behind in a weakened, almost dead state.

As I walked along the room I had woken in, still unclear that it was in fact the fabled library of the Shen'dralar I turned around a corner only to find myself standing in front a large number of nightelves sitting at a table in the middle of the open room, some with books lying in front of them, some without. One of them turned his head towards me and yelled out in excitement: "The carpet hath awoken!"

Thoonum told me how that elf had been the one who found me and reattached my arm with his advanced healing magic.

If I think about the way how they talked and acted, I still have to wonder that they were this proficient at using spells. It was a miracle alone that my arm had been attached the right way round.

Yet before I could gather my concerns at the time another of the elves burst out "Yeti!", provoking the one sitting on the opposite side of the table to also start yelling again.

"Oh no, a duck!" He called out and jumped right to his feet. The two ended up chasing each other yet again and left me after seeing this for a second time with the sole wish to get out of that place as fast as possible!


	27. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 11

_Chapter 11: _

No matter how much time had passed I've never managed to find out why exactly the Dreadlord had suddenly fled in fear of his life leaving me behind, sparing me the gruesome fate he wished to bestow upon me. Yet I also have to admit I did not really care about all the 'whys' in the world. Knowing wouldn't matter anyhow... the only thing of a certain relevance and of which I was thinking of most of the time was how this whole situation had shown me rather effectively how careless and weak I still was. Something I had to change no matter what...

I left the Shen'dralar only minutes after waking up. Those elves were just crazy, nothing more and nothing less. They wouldn't be any further help for me they probably had offered all they were still capable off after years of going insane. Somewhat impressive, not to last...

After making it back the Undercity – this time on the back of my new mount, I began searching whether there were ways how I could grow stronger. I spent several days in the library without finding anything. I would give it my all... even if it meant mindless studying. This weakness had to be erased, no matter what the cost! I would not fall ever again!

During those few days fate let me meet Calystea once or even twice, but I just ignored her. The silly elf was close to tears, she still didn't understand what went wrong with our friendship and I had no intention of telling her either. Up to this very day I have no idea if she has ever found out...

In the seldom times of resting and recreation I delved deeper into the thoughts I entertained about the virtues of the Forgotten Shadow. Just you think about it for a moment... for a sole second! What is it that characterizes a god? The answer is surprisingly simple... Strength and immortality! And soon I realized that if you believed the Forgotten Shadow, followed their teachings, immortality would be a side effect if you reached a certain level of power. I still wasn't sure if they really meant true immortality or only something like a name that becomes unforgotten over the ages, that you will be left behind in the texts of old or something vaguely similar. After all, fame was of no real interest to me.

Unfortunately the closer I came to finding out what I might seek, the closer came the came the sudden conclusion that there would be no way to grow any stronger in Azeroth for me. Then again my rotten luck seemed to be pushing it as far as I wanted to go - the military expeditions to the outlands were rather well organized and would offer me several possibilities to grow further in a new world. Like any other I heard the rumors of areas where you could see the nether freely flowing around you. And as fate kept on twisting and revolving I also found a chapter in a book that explained the function of cloth infused with magic. A robe or actually any piece of clothing produced like this would be able to enhance the magic potential of its bearer by a large extent.

All in all this was the only thing I managed to find out in the depths of the Undercity which again left me with no other choice but to venture into the world again and possibly straight to the Dark Portal in the Blasted Lands. But my plans would soon enough change on heart's beat.

I left the Undercity with my felhunter by my side and took a zeppelin to Stranglethorn. From there I travelled north, through Duskwood. The little human settlement there was of no interest to me, I just wanted to pass through without any fighting or hostilities, but everyone who dared to attack me, of course, paid with their lives for their foolishness.

From there I turned to the east and headed for the Deadwind Pass and the Swamp of Sorrows, from which I would have the possibility to go south into the Blasted Lands. Without tiring my new dreadsteed carried me along the paths the vast armies of Alliance and Horde once had taken – for the better or the worse.

I already could see the portal from a great distance, the crater around it was large but not only that – the portal itself could easily fit even the largest dragon. Aside from the pure sight the lands around were drenched with huge demonic energies. I came to the conclusion they came from the portal, but I soon found out how my senses fooled me. It did not come from the portal, no - but from an area further to the south, a place where even the blighted soil itself appeared to be from the twisted nether. I wondered who or what was emitting these large amounts of fel energy for the longest time but could not find an easy answer. And according to my map the whole area appeared as almost unexplored only named 'the Tainted Scar'.

But I wanted to see with my own dead eyes what horrors awaited within those scorched lands... Thoonum was quick to express his concern about us heading there. But I didn't listen to him. I just yelled at him that he should remain quiet and know his place. I never had spoken to him like this before, but I guess that place really let the best of me shine though as it deserved the closer we got after having started to make our way towards the scarred part of the land.

This was the first time when I completely rejected the opinion of one of my demons. Although the Tainted Scar was a rather large area on the map, something was drawing me to its close by northern end.

The whole area was festering with demons, felhunter of various different seizes, felguards accompanying them as they walked endless patrol routes.

I tried to avoid them as good as I could and it seemed to me they did roughly the same.

Carried by my own swift steps I reached the place that I was drawn to rather fast. It wasn't exactly what I had initially expected but an old altar. Behind it there stood a large statue of a hooded man holding a sword. Strangely enough the eyes of the statue were glowing in a faint orange. Two chains, one to the left and one to the right connected it with two blocks of stone. Old runes of a strange language were carved into them. It almost seemed they ... chained it down?

The altar itself was about as tall as I was standing in height and also bound to the ground with think dark iron chains, for whatever reason there might have been, human skulls piled up all around it. I approached the structure still on the back of my dreadsteed, my felhunter following slowly keeping a distance. He was actually truly scared of this place.

As I came closer I first noticed a man kneeling in front of the statue with the glowing eyes. He appeared to be rather old for a mere human. But what does age mean anyhow? The moment he saw me he got up to his feet and drew nearer on his own.

"Obviously..." He spoke forth "you are far away from your home..."

I didn't know whether or not that old man wanted to scare me but it didn't work, he was by far too quietly and calm. I asked him what this place was cutting all the small-talk. He also seemed the straight forward type and told me this part of the land was the former dwelling of the demon lord Kazzak and the altar next to us he had built by his own hands. Turns out he too was an old warlock that had achieved most of the things one could want if you sought for raw un-preceded power.

Raising his eyebrows he looked at me as a man of familiar interests and assured to me that I was already incredibly strong, yet... he also did not hold back to tell me that I would not be able to even lay a single scratch on him with any spell I could conjure before him. Hearing this made me furious of course, but he knew the likes of people like me as he said and offered me help in gaining what I sought the most by enslaving a doomguard of Kazzak's legions.

My minions were simply too weak as he so boldly put it.

Despite the first feeling of unease I carefully listened to his proposition and all the things I would have to do as requirements. It would have meant a lot of travelling again no doubt, something I wasn't too interested in. Yet in the end it came down to the last thing he said which made me turn down his somewhat generous offer, at least for the moment.

He had made the mistake to tell me that the doomguard would not provide me with the extra power I longed for because of its magical defenses and the fact that it was barely enslaved and not dominated by you. And should it ever manage to break free? Well you would maybe still have some time left to beg that it was too dumb to notice and followed your orders properly for a while. But either that was not what I wanted or even needed right now. My life proved risky enough as it was, thinking of my severed arm.

Upon hearing my reaction the old man gave it another moment of thought and came up with another offering for me. This was the moment when I first noticed it... He called himself openly a warlock, but this old man had no demon for a pet.

I tried to question his background but he would just ignore me and push on with his words. And so he made up a ludicrous tale of something he could show me - something that would greatly enhance my power in turn for a favor. Of all things he had managed to make me curious. I could not hold back but wonder what this might be, what secret the old fool might have to share. Backed into the corner I was, I turned willing to do almost everything in order to grow any further. I also told him that with sense of great fervor, but he responded calmly that I shouldn't go around saying something like that so easily. Someone could take it for the truth. Agitated by his words I almost began snarling at him... Though he only continued: if I wanted to hear him out on this offer, I would have to honor our privacy and send my felhunter to the demonic realm for a while. I had no idea where this was leading to, but I was desperate to find out, so without too much delay I dismissed my felhunter.

No matter what the old geezer might have said, I was pretty sure about being able to defend myself in case he would try to attack me of guard.

After Thoonum had vanished and left our realm, the old man started talking a good bit easier. He began by telling me his name was Daio.

What a strange warlock. None like I had ever seen. Then he sat down next to a pile of skulls and looked up at me. He warned me about what he would unveil in only a few moments later; that the progress, this knowledge could not be undone and I had to be really sure if I wanted to see it through. But he said as much as that he would help me on this endeavor, but only if I decided quickly and most important only if I did it today... At any other given time in the future, no matter how strong or weak, how proud or even if I came begging on my knees, he would not hold back and kill me immediately, shattering this broken body and taking what was left of me.

He achieved little but to test my patience and no matter what he would have said, that man couldn't scare me away. I for my part did not yet want to give away too much of how I felt and just nodded in return waiting for him to go on.

And he did not disappoint when he continued his little speech, this time about an old and forbidden ritual used by the warlocks of the Shadow Council who had but only merit to themselves. This technique... this insanity I was to witness soon had been banished from many a book of old because the results it bore. The few cultists proficient enough to use it well became too strong to be dominated and the ones in charge soon lost control. A warlock trained in wretched art can highly increase his strength and vitality by releasing the energy bound in the demonic pet he controls and taking it up into his own body instead of just 'borrowing' it from the live minion. The demon by our sides are somewhat like an energy reserve for us, waiting to be put to use and with this spell you would turn able to unleash this energy all at once.

The price of this ritual is for you to kill your own demon. Once it is dead however, you receive powers according to the nature of the creature you have slain.

"And all I want from you..." Daio said in a deep voice. "...is the blood that is spilled onto my altar."

I silently stood in front of the old man thinking about the offer in all its treason and opportunity. At first everything inside of my head screamed that I should just forget about this all, turn away and never come back! But... there was something else inside me, something that kept me from doing so.

It was this short moment of hesitation that let me remember what had happened in Dire Maul not too long ago, the shame and hate I felt for myself because of this weakness! It then pushed on back to the words of Daio how I wouldn't even be able to hurt him at all and finally ... my mind drifted back to the elf called Calystea. I don't know why exactly but it threw me off the edge... I didn't knew what to do, but with every minute that passed by I thought of this ritual as more appealing than before.

It took a while and at least cost me some effort, but eventually I agreed.

The memory of how it felt after summoning the infernal for the first time was still too fresh and I wanted to feel something similar again. To perhaps relive the rush that came with the sudden power.

With a sigh, not due to regret but something far more redundant I climbed onto the stone altar and Daio eagerly handed me a special dagger for the ritual, no demon would be able to withstand it he said.

What I can now clearly say is that in the moment I first took the dagger into my hands something died deep inside of me. Power was like a drug at the time, hell it still is and always will be. Having it feels tremendous, but the feeling soon starts to fade and then you want to feel it again and again. But each time – no matter what - the effect is not as great as it was before, so you start wanting more and more. Craving the rush it brings along...

I don't really regret what I did on that day. I would have come to such a point eventually sooner or later. There is no denying it... But the words each single one of them spoke just before dying are still haunting me even until today.

Choosing the easiest target first I started off with the imp. I kneeled down before summoning him, the dagger clutched ready in my right hand.

He squealed surprisingly happily as he jumped through the portal, no clue what was awaiting him.

"Where aaaare we, maaaaster..? You didn't summon Pipfip for aaaa long time now."

I didn't bother answering him. I just couldn't say anything to the wretched thing. And come to think of it I guess I remained quiet for the whole rest of the day from the moment on I was given the dagger. But there need not be any words on day as this. Instead I looked at the imp from cold eyes passing my judgment.

"Whaaaa..." The dagger pierced the chest of the little demon with the ease I had been promised. A bright green fluid immediately began dropping down the blade and onto the altar.

"_Archimtiros faramos... _( Treacherous bastard...)_"_

He winced as he realized what I did to him. The words were of course in Eredrun, his pride demanded as much from the little bugger whilst his eyes were looking at me filled with the anger of his whole kin and maybe even hatred for the traitor I was.

Slowly starting to grasp what I was doing something in my head screamed at me to stop these atrocities! But I only yelled back at myself that I had already made a grave mistake that couldn't be undone anymore. And ... now that I already come this far... I did neither want to stop. I was desperate.

So I manned up and got back to my feet to summon my voidwalker next. I waited a moment so it would happen just after the body of my dead imp had disappeared fully into the twisted nether.

The blue bulk of demon glided into this world without a single word. Actually, for once he really seemed to like the place where we were.

As the blue bulb was slowly looking around I closed my eyes and blindly stabbed Belmon in his big dark back. A viscous liquid then started pouring out of the wound covering the altar as well as the dagger and a part of my robe. I never imagined these creatures even had something like blood...

"_Toralar... amir tiros... _( Finally... free again...)_"_

His voice sounded about as hollow as it always had.

I closed my eyes again. Regret was already creeping up to me. But I just kept telling myself I couldn't stop here. Not after getting this far. I had sacrificed two of my demons already and if I didn't continue on I would be mocking them and their sacrifice for me. What a wretched logic to follow, but it convinced me to keep going.

Kneeled down again I had made up my mind... the felhunter would be the next.

Thoonum stepped out of the portal, seemingly not too surprised that we were standing on the altar. He came towards me calmly following my bidding as he had always done.

"I know what you want to do... I felt how two demons bearing your mark died only seconds ago... YOU WON'T FOOL ME!" He yelled at me inside my head. "After all we have been through together... This is the thanks for it? I saved your life several times, you cruel bastard!"

It was the first time that I heard him talk this way, so... out of order and heated.

My muscles twitched as I drove the dagger through his neck upwards right into his head.

"_Toralar maev... _(Selfish scum...)_"_

Three of the demons I had fought for so hard had died by my own hands within only a few minutes.

I had betrayed them. There was no denying it... What had I done? What had I become?

I kneeled there in front of the corpse of my felhunter as it was slowly absorbed by the essence of the twisted nether. The warlock called Daio besides the altar on the other hand was already growing impatient. He yelled at me that there was only one more demon missing to break all the seals I might encounter. And that I should keep going, it was almost done.

I slowly rose to my feet again. I had no idea how Darnys would react on summoning her. She could go on a wild frenzy the moment she was called to this realm for all I knew.

But it was no use. I knew her strength I told myself, and I knew that I would be able to overcome her! Cherishing these thoughts of false comfort I swallowed hard and finally summoned her.

She came into this world her head hanging low. Then from one moment to another she came rushing towards me. My mind was filled with the fear that she already knew what I wanted to do to her. But instead she flung her arms around me and embraced me, a tear dropping from her cheek onto my robe. I was too startled from her charging at me that I stabbed her immediately.

She looked at me with her eyes growing more and more blurry, black blood running down the edge of the dagger and over my hands.

"_X rethul shi..., xi ashj... _(I missed you..., my love...)_" _She whispered to me as she tried to kiss me one last time, but she collapsed beforehand.

She had died right in my arms.

Everything in my mind now breaking apart I wanted to burst out in tears, but I couldn't. I shed but only a single tear ... the last one of this existence.

For a moment I even considered turning the dagger on myself, but I was too weak for that either. I could do nothing but to fall to my knees tightly holding onto the body of Darnys until it had fully vanished into the nether. And even after that I just kept kneeling there and stared into the sky above me, hoping perhaps to see the place she had gone to.

Daio for his part decided he had looked at the whole scene long enough and wanted to break it up.

He told me that I could keep the dagger if I wanted to. It would surely do great as a magical weapon for almost any purpose, the blood being a fine coating. He also said something about how it would take some time for my body to be able to make full use of the overflowing energy I would be able to control from now on. Little did he know...

I already felt the effects of the costly sacrifice grazing my reaches.

I felt how limitations vanished rapidly one after the other when collecting energy for a spell.

The bloody offering of my four demons altered me in many a way, looking at it from this perspective now. The death of my imp largely increased the amount of magic I could use for any type of fire conjuration and made me able to create fierce demonic flame at the blink of an eye. Thanks to my voidwalker my lifespan was dramatically increased yet again even for being a Forsaken as well as the ability to resist shadow magic and most types of physical harm with ease. I also received the power to syphon life from opponents if I so desired. Darnys had granted me unparalleled strength concerning the shadows and the power to inflict pain to a target at will when I even only barely touched it. And finally after the death of my felhunter I became able to feel the magic inherited in other beings, the faint essence of the nether freely flowing amongst us as well as the ability to drain it from them, further enhancing my own.

According to Daio all these effects were to last until the day I died eventually.

Everything kicked in rather early, no matter what the old man had told me. How could he even hope to fathom the being I represented to this world? I could already sense how strong Daio had been from the moment on when he had offered me the dagger for keeping. And it soon dawned on me in its full clarity how he wouldn't be able to estimate how strong I had already grown during only this few minutes after the ritual.

But now with all this freshly found power inhabiting me I opened up for emotions again... hatred being the most prominent. I looked at the old man with merciless eyes from that point on, he didn't deserve anything else. By then I also understood what he had meant with his cheeky little remark about me not able to even lay a single scratch on him, but that time had already passed now. And the situation had clearly turned around to my favor.

I gazed at him wanting more. I wanted gratification for killing off my demons, my minions and pets!

Sensing I wasn't done yet he then went ahead to tell me on his own that he needed the blood because he wanted to fuse with a demon to become one for himself. He offered me knowledge. Knowledge without any gain! How could he even believe that this would quench my thirst for his blood?

No! Aware how this wouldn't be satisfying me, I jumped down from the altar pointing with the dagger at the old man. Whatever he was thinking, he clearly had underestimated me.

"_Gul kar maev shi rikk amir xi no, kanrethad daz amir! _(Die for what you have done to me, miserable old fool!)_" _I yelled out at him.

For a second or two I thought about giving him a chance at first, the first strike at least, but I knew this would not be enough to calm myself down. I wanted to see him dead most of all...

Hatred would become my strongest weapon ever since that day on forth.

Daio was killed within only a few seconds. Ripped apart, burn down and swallowed up whole...

Not even a scratch? Pathetic...

I left nothing of him behind that could be identified. He deserved to end like this and the world would be my witness.

After quieting my freshly found lust for blood and retribution I fastened the dagger to my belt and left this area with a bittersweet feeling still ravaging through my mind and soul.

I didn't know where I should go, but definitely not a larger city nor the Outlands for the time being... something a bit more desolate would do fine I assumed.

I just wanted to be alone for a while and think. Think about what I had been driven into, about what I had done. Ironically enough I had been alone for most of the time already, despite maybe my demons. But they were gone now, for always and ever.

Seems every time I met someone either myself or the other person was to get hurt for little to no reason...

So in order to prevent this from happening I would chose the life of the bitter lone wolf... at least for the moment.


	28. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 12

_Chapter 12: _

It took me about a month before I had the heart to return to Undercity.

During the time I travelled a lot, roamed areas that were quiet and without too much population, Winterspring or the Un'Goro Crater had been places I sought out.

Animals started to avoid me completely on their own. They knew fully well what would happen if they attacked me. They felt it solely from my presence. Only a selected few beings that were either driven by an unknown rage or pure foolishness dared to oppose me. The latter ones mostly humans, showing again how degenerated this race had already become.

I showed no mercy for the fools. I obliterated every single one of them, no matter if human, orc, forsaken, furbolg or wendigo. Only the strongest survive... and if contested for no reason – then you have the right to kill or be killed.

Other people that came to me on a neutral or even somewhat friendly basis were rejected by me. I did not want company or help or whatsoever. I told myself I did not need it, ignoring the obvious facts.

Though even I too was not fool enough to hold a grudge against the rest of the world, but I have to admit, I was not too fond of it either.

The last words of my demons haunted me every single minute of that time. Every free thought was swallowed up in maelstrom of their voices, mixing into one large denunciation. And the only thing I had to banish these voices was my ongoing search for strength and immortality. I have grown as an individual due to the sacrifice but the way I wished to travel was still far from reaching its end...

As a consequence my former self slowly died away and with him the weakness I once cherished.

My mind was numbed due to the constant pain I had inflicted on myself. And eventually I started to block out the thoughts about my demons and focused back blindly onto the virtues of the Forgotten Shadow. They helped me to leave behind the remorse by giving a frail sense of hope to this worn out soul of mine... Something I would forget about sooner or later.

I began thinking how all of this would stop mattering once I achieved the ability to transcend death itself. And even though I had jumped his scythe once already, undeath clearly wasn't the answer I sought. There had to be more to it... With this lunacy flowing freely through my mind, it all was driven by the inane beliefs and wishes of the Forgotten Shadow. You never listen to your teachers except for those few moments... So maybe I could change what had happened once I was truly able to shape the world around me according to my own wishes.

That is the frail, often forgotten hope their doctrine had given me.

But other things also were at work. Tirelessly the hate that was inherent in my heart spread. Mainly I started to hate myself. But this would slowly change soon enough. Yet again ... it never came as far. It's hard to describe for someone on the outside, but at some point everything just turns numb and dead for you.

Of course, when talking about fool, and might it be myself, the rest of the world is rich of them. I came to meet several people that were seeking my help to obtain power. Some others even wanted to fight me to prove that they were stronger.

All of them were such idiots... they had no idea who or what they were messing with. None of those who wanted to fight me survived to tell their story. I ended most of the fights with a single spell, sometimes two. For I didn't want this to happen and I tried to avoid the point when the lust for blood would overcome me eventually.

On one evening I erased almost a whole tribe of blighted furbolgs because I gave in to the urge to kill. That night I got an idea of what might happen if something like this occurred near a city or larger settlement. But sooner or later this would even this fear of myself would grow meaningless for me again. I started to stay at the inns again and not outside the towns. In almost deserted areas like Winterspring or Silithus there was nobody that might recognize me as the warlock that I was anyhow. And those few who did know my name usually never lived through the night they bothered me. But nevertheless rumors even came to places like these, driving away again. On the other hand, I'm quite sure that some of the goblins of Winterspring knew my identity all along, yet they valued their lives enough to leave me to my own ends.

But my name wasn't the only one I heard during that time of hardship. After I had left Winterspring, I decided to travel to the other continent again. I did not want to return to the Undercity just yet, I wanted to stay in Tarren Mill for a while. The Hillsbrad Foothills were also a nice and quiet area at the time.

I wanted to stay in the inn for three days and afterwards travel deep into the Alterac Mountains, although I never came as far.

On the second evening I was sitting in the inn and heard how a group of three people were talking about me. They only exchanged knowledge about the latest rumors concerning me. And I supposed the warlock guild of Undercity was using my disappearing to push their own popularity. Otherwise I couldn't explain why even such peasants knew my name, all three of them only worms compared to me or even any other magic user. Yet the thing that aroused my interest were not the empty rumors, but the fact that they compared me to a certain person called Blarus Whitrick.

He was an overzealous warlock who had tried to summon a large amount of demons, straight out of the lines of the Burning Legion to attack the Lich King directly in the heart of his own lands. It is said that he once lived in Silverpine Forest not too long ago, but apparently had finally fled due to most recent events. It seemed a dreadlord had interfered with Blarus' plans as the rumors stated, though all of that nonsense was of no interest for me. Yet they also talked about something far more worth my while. He was supposed to be wearing a robe of some kind. They said something of a dark red coloring and patterns similar to the wings of bats and that you could almost see how the magic was flowing around it.

In history there were several sets of magical clothing created by only the most skilled tailors of their age. As I found out later most of these sets were lost to time. But I also had already heard rumors that one of such a set had appeared in the outlands not so long ago and that it actually seemed to be one of a kind. Worse than a coin flip but there might have been a slight chance that this was actually the robe that said warlock was supposed to be wearing, I figured.

In either case I knew I just had to have it.

Finding Blarus Whitrick - that was the actual reason for me to return to the Undercity. And even if the story with the robe had been only a peasant's lie, I still would have eliminated someone who was put up to me as an equal.

Unfortunately it was unavoidable that I was recognized inside the city's borders, but then again that was something I just had to deal with. After all I only wanted to get some basic information, some where's and some why's and then leave again.

But as I soon found out it wasn't just as easy as I'd hoped. The citizens of Undercity couldn't tell me that much. Most of them only knew the name Whitrick and his connection to the nether. Feeling played the fool I travelled to every bigger city and even almost all the settlements of the horde before I finally found an ever so small lead.

Just gathering the information on the whereabouts of this man cost me an incredible amount of time you could never believe.

I had grown somewhat desperate on my search for him, at least luckily for me I could offer a bargain none of the people I asked would ever want to refuse, so I was rather sure that they all told the truth: They were allowed to keep their lives in exchange. And none of them would have been worth killing anyhow...

The final piece of crucial information was given to me by a goblin in the town of Ratchet: Azshara he said. A region formed by the Great Sundering thousands of years ago. Old elven ruins shine forth along the jagged cliffs of this area whilst the great sea pounds against them without ever resting. For an extra coin the goblin threw in that Azshara was one of the only two places left in this world where the blue dragon flight still resides except for the icy fields of Northrend. Their scales would be worth quite some money on the market, no matter if black or legal. It took a while and a threat from my lips till the little green bugger noticed that this all was of no interest to me. I did not need money... Then he finally spilled what I wanted to hear from him all this time... that he had heard about this lone warlock now living in an old tower at the very tip of the land at the northern end of the Bay of Storms. Later I found out that this very tower he had spoken of was the Tower of Eldara.

Those were the only things I could find out no matter where I went, so I took my chances together with the first flight to Azshara I could get. The Wyvern landed in a small outpost of the Horde in the western part of those lands. Not even guards were stationed there, how laughable...

As I looked onto the map I wondered what the best way through this area might be. I could either follow the road which went straight through the Ruins of Eldarath and ride along the coastline or take the way over the steep hills, which was probably the longer one.

I decided to take the way through the old city ruins at first without giving it much thought, yet I changed my mind as I saw all the naga roaming the former elven city. They might not have been a serious threat for me, but they surely were a nuisance that would definitely hold me back. Naga warriors would be dumb enough to charge at me without caring about whom their opponent might be and the animals on the top of the cliffs were probably intelligent enough to avoid me as good as they could on their own. Therefore it was rather easy for me to change my mind this time.

And so I travelled along the ridged cliffs of Azshara, my mind filling with the lust for blood. Even though all I wanted was to possess the robe this warlock was wearing, the piece of clothing and nothing else. But if this piece of cloth was really as powerful as everybody was saying it should at least double my strength as a rough estimate. And more importantly I would soon be strong enough to transcend death itself for sure.

I was so desperate, I still believed that the voices haunting me would finally stop, finally come to a rest. Maybe, just maybe I was foolish to believe in the probability that I could quiet them in such an easy way. But you never know if you don't try...

The wide glades of Azshara were populated with hippogryphs and large stone giants, all of them keeping a safe distance to me. Just as I came closer to the north-east of the headland I noticed that I was already on a slope downwards.

Behind a couple of trees I could already see the tower standing at the very tip of the land.

It was larger than I had imagined at first and it looked surprisingly nice too, although I assumed that the lower floors should be flooded with water almost regularly.

All the seashells and starfish in the entrance of the tower proved me right.

Murlocs and a strange breed of crab-like creatures were strolling around the tower, forming a strange kind of welcoming committee.

At the time I still didn't pay too much attention to my new abilities. It was only after I had already entered the tower that I started to feel a strong magical entity at its top and immediately I was also rather sure that I should have easily felt it earlier if I had only focused a bit of my attention on it.

But it did not matter anyhow... as soon as I stood in the midst of the tower's lowest floor I could see a light shining down from above. I was sure that was the place where I had to go to. A stone staircase offered me the possibility to climb up to the top of the tower with ease. So I took it...

The whole building was artless on its inside, nothing compared to its outer shell. I would never have imagined the buildings of nightelves to be so boringly decorated, though I guessed already that had been only a misconception of mine.

With every floor I climbed upwards along the tower, there were more and more bookshelves scattered about and little laboratories with all kinds of bubbling fluids in little vials next to them. A thriving alchemist I saw...

The presence I felt grew stronger as I closed in on it. I even felt how it became restless for some reason. I could only assume that he was awaiting me. Yet I was proven wrong and to my surprise he didn't even notice me in the slightest. I tried to talk me into thinking that he was so absorbed by his studies that he just simply didn't notice anything that happened around him. And just I reached the top floor, I saw how he was trying to carefully pour a green liquid into something else with a bubbling red color. The room was, of course, circular and had a large hole in the floor that enabled you to look straight down to the first floor.

"Have a seat. I'll be done in a minute."

He pointed to a wooden chair next to a large table and said these words to me as I wanted to approach him from behind. The liquids in the vial mixed and now shined in a light blue. My aggression diminished from seeing his frail and unlikely body I sat down as he had said I should do... besides I had all the time in the world, had I not?

As the Forsaken named Blarus Whitrick turned around to face me, I had the chance to take a good look at the robe in its whole. To my surprise matching the robe he wore a pair of shoulder pads and gloves.

"So... now tell me, you know who I am I would assume... What it is that you want from me?"

I looked at him, still calmed. But I knew the lust for blood would eventually take the upper hand in my mind and tear that man to shreds. This would make everything a tad bit difficult, for I did not want to damage the robe if it could be prevented.

"No, wait... Don't say it... I know what you desire..." He still seemed to be rather easy, though slightly annoyed. He took off one of the gloves and threw it over to me. I caught it out of mid-air with a look of bewilderment on my face.

"That is what you seek, am I right?" Turning the piece of cloth around in my hands I nodded silently.

"Another one ... dammit! ... How many of you are still to come? Can't you just leave me alone?"

I stood up on my own and came a few steps closer as I put on the glove with cheerful delight. I told him the only thing I wanted was that set of cloths he was wearing, nothing else.

"I'm not giving it to you... It was a gift! And I will not hand it over to anybody! It was presented to me by the bronze dragonflight."

"What a remarkable lie..." I couldn't hold back the sarcasm in my voice as I began preparing for what would follow up next. And it may have been only the glove that I had put on, but I immediately felt how my strength increased. Not too much but just enough for the lust for blood to kick in again.

"Now give the glove back and then leave immediately, otherwise I will be forced to fight you!"

I broke out into laughter for a moment. He was so clueless...

"You leave me no choice..!"

I set a single curse of pain on him as he spoke these last words and he immediately dropped to his knees, wincing like the worm he was. His mind might have been able to hold back the open screams, but his body wasn't able to suppress the pain efficiently.

It somehow was disappointing to see him without dignity already, especially as he was known for the robe and how strong it had made him. But I guessed it only enhanced what you already had. So if there was nothing to enhance, the robe would be a charm to the eyes yet elsewise fairly useless. From that moment on it was clear to me that I would be far better suited for an ornament as this!

I walked over to him and crouched down next to his face. Not able to fight I took his head by the chin with the hand that wore the glove of his own set and forced him to look right into my eyes.

"Did you really believe you would survive a dance with the devil himself?" A dark grim came to my face, distorting the smile as the words had freshly left my throat.

It was easy for me to engulf my hands in flames, even demonic ones. Within the blink of an eye my whole hand was surrounded by a bright green fire that then started to burn away the skin in Blarus' face. Once the first layer of leathery tissue had been erased they slowly also started to eat away through the bones of his skull. By then he wasn't able to hold back the screams anymore and let it all out, piercing my ears with the sounds. The moment he quieted down again and as soon as I was sure that he had died his second time I let the flames vanish. There wasn't too much left of him by then, but well... you sometimes have to make a mess to achieve what you want.

I first took off the shoulder pads and the other glove and put them on to the table. Then I started to try to get him out of the robe. What a pleasant surprise..., he wore pants of the same kind underneath the vestment.

Without any use for him anymore I threw the dead body down to the bottom floor. A splash indicated the moment it hit the ground and with that a puddle of muddy water.

Then I turned around to the table. In front of me lay one of the strongest sets of magical clothing I would have in my reach. I wasn't too sure if the bright yellow and orange coloring was really suitable for a warlock, but it also reminded me of the relentless flame that burned everything that stood in its way. I reminded me... of myself.

I actually hesitated with putting it on.

The look of the set absorbed me and with every moment that passed I thought of it as more and more appealing. It did not matter who had made it or how, it would give me the power I wanted without knowing as much.

Savoring the moment I took my time changing clothes as I felt how I grew more and more powerful with everything I put on. Again... limitations were removed, the energies of the twisted nether opened up for me even further. As I wore all of them, I swore I felt the pulsating heartbeat of this world and hundreds more out there! Then... the lust for blood overcame me pushing everything aside. Two large wings reached out from my back the moment I had taken on the last piece of it.

Fueled by my own craving for destruction I hurried down the stairs again passing by the oppressed corpse of his former master. Nothing else mattered for the moment except to ease the urge, to quench the thirst.

I took down everything that was in sight after leaving the tower and began hurrying over to the ruins of the elven city of Eldarath to slaughter some of the naga there, if not all of them.

Sadly it did not come as far, somewhere on the beach that was also infested with these freaks straight from the depths of the see I came to a rest.

The moment I calmed down the wings on my back vanished again, sadly enough they were only a projection. Nevertheless I suppose I looked like an angle of death when they appeared on my back.

Or at least like a true demon.

On that day I became stronger than I had never dreamed of or imagined. Yet I still had not achieved what I really wanted. It appeared one part of the puzzle was still missing...

I was still too far away from transcending death and thus becoming what you would call a god.


	29. Memories of the Twilight Chapter 13

_Chapter 13: _

I soon felt hollow again.

But were also other things that plagued me... With the new robes I finally returned to Undercity as I didn't want to live the life of a loner anymore. And if I truly ever again desired to do so, I could always take the tower of Blarus as a new home. The murlocs or naga that might take it up as new home should hardly prove to be enough to hold me off.

On the other hand I also couldn't have cared less for all the people now looking up to me either due to admiration or blind fear. It all didn't matter to me...

One of the stranger thoughts I had during that time was how salvation seemed not to be made for people like me, but I shook it off and out of my mind within only a few minutes. What nonsense my rotten brain began spouting about in midst all my focused determination.

But it lead me at least something... and with this frail confusion I gave it a bit more thought: What did I really want to achieve in the end?

The answer for this question proved so easy and yet so difficult.

Immortality

The words of Frostwhisper were following me everywhere. They were stuck in my mind and driving to the brink of insanity. I started to ask myself how did he become immortal, and yet again the answer was rather easy and still so difficult - the Scourge.

I knew that I would eventually turn myself into slavery willingly – either to enemy or the warlock's guild that began seizing my every move and turn on the turf of the Banshee Queen. On the other hand I had come free from the clutches of the Lich King on my own when I was weak. So now after I had grown stronger than probably every living being in Azeroth - why should I not be able to get out of his icy grasp once again?

"And therefore I now stand in front of you. Waiting idly inside this cage for the giant beetle to return and finally take me to see his master."

The mage looks at me from bleak eyes and stands up so he could face me properly.

"I really do have to say..." He turns away from me again "I was taught that you normally shouldn't feel for a demon... but if that really was what your own felhunter had said to you..." He makes a short pause "then I have to agree with him. You ARE a cold hearted and cruel bastard!"

I stayed calm for the moment.

"But tell me one more thing, you great warlock..." He turns to me, looking at me again with a strange fire in his eyes unlike before. "How much of this fairy tale you presented to me now was even close to the truth?"

It bursts out of me the moment Chillsbane had closed his mouth again from accusing me. I want to kill him on the spot for that insult!

"Just shut it, or I will kill you immediately!"

"You betrayed and killed everyone who was close to you and now you turn yourself in to the Scourge after blaming everybody but yourself? ... What a miserable way of living. Yet somehow I still can only pity you after all I heard but then again on the other hand I despise you." The mage just went on. A strange clicking sound in the background of the argument accompanied the situation.

"SILENCE YOUSELF, insolent worm!" I yell at the mage as I make a few steps towards him, my hands open and ready to give whatever spell I might think of my all.

Not a single second later a large spike rushes out of nowhere through the bars of the cage, right passed my head it pierces the mage dead center in the chest, leaving only a large gaping hole behind as it retreats, his body dropping to the floor motionless.

What on...?

"Waz he too loud for you, Warlock?" The large spike turns out to be actually one of the claws of the huge scarab that had imprisoned me here.

"The Mazter haz called for you. I will now take you to him as it waz arranged." With the tip of its claw the creature swiftly opens the cage and lets me out of it. "Now pleaze, follow me."

The nerubian leads me back to the room from where you can get to all four wings of the structure. I still don't know what to think about what had happened only moments ago. After all... I wanted to kill him myself.

Above the teleporter through which I had entered Naxxramas it seems there is another one. At least that is where the crypt lord is leading me to. We climb up a small staircase and enter the second circle that shines in a light blue.

A moment later we are already standing in a totally different room. It is far colder in here. The whole place almost completely covered in ice, the skeleton of a dragon lying in the corner. I've never heard of undead dragons before. And although this is clearly only a skeleton I can feel how magic is pulsing through it.

On the direct opposite of this large room there is a hallway. It takes a turn so you can't directly see where it is leading to. The only thing I know is that I draw closer and closer nearer to the source of the immense power that overshadows everyone else in Naxxramas.

As we take the turn in the hallway I can now clearly see the other room up front. It appears circular and a large throne is in the back of it. As we enter I see six portals that all lead into areas covered with thick layers of ice and snow.

The lich known as Kel'Thuzad is hovering in the middle of it all, overseeing whatever progress is made. He has certain similarities to Frostwhisper, except for his crown of bones that is a good bit larger.

"Mazter, I bring you the prizoner. Juzt az you have ordered." The nerubian lowers his bulky head upon saying these few words.

The voice of the lich is indescribable. It has nothing of a human's anymore.

"My, my... this is no prisoner. This is our most humble guest." He speaks calmly before turning directly towards me. "Don't be alarmed - I will not ask what you want from us, for I know all of it to its detail. All I need of you is a single word." He comes directly to the point without any hesitation. "We offer you strength in life as well as in death. Once you have died, you will serve us an eternity, but in return you will receive the might over frost and shadow alike in a way you could only dream of before."

I will not question the truth of his words. I can clearly see how Frostwhisper and he stand out of the lot.

And it is only natural, once you die, eternity will await you. The decision had been mad a long time ago... I will become immortal and transcend death itself!

Nothing will hold me back from reaching my goals now!

"Good... Therefore I ask of you, mortal, will you pledge your loyalty to me and my master? Will you vow to us that you will do as you are told and follow the orders of our lifeless king? Will you turn your back on the world as you know it? If you are willing to do so, come to me."

Eagerly I step forward and go nearer to the lich. The air around the creature is as cold as ice. Even I can fell that much. He turns to one of the portals to our right. The bony hand on my shoulder he carefully pushes me towards the pulsating field of energy behind us, ripping apart the carefully woven fabric of time and space.

"Now turn around to me, initiate."

I do as he says and right now I'm looking back straight at him again.

"There are few things you need to know, warlock." He takes his hand away and glides slowly back to the middle of the room.

"First: Don't you ever think that you can fool us again so easily." His voice rises. The shock on my face displayed a little bit too openly.

"Second: Believe me... you will never get out of his grip, no matter what you plan on doing. Should you prove too dangerous, you will become one of the mindless minions of our king." A short laughter of the nerubian interrupts the scene.

How did he know...?

"And finally... You have probably already guessed it... You are of no use for us 'alive' like this, ... far too dangerous." The crypt lord approaches me.

"You might as well die again... right now..."

The moment Kel'Thuzad ends his sentence I feel how the claw of the nerubian pierces through my chest. My mind is filled to bursting with artificial pain and suffering. Everything grows blurry rather fast. I still see the outlines of everything, but I'm already unable to focus my eyes. How with only a faint the image of the Lich and how he waves with his hand left I'm carelessly flung through the portal behind me.

The pile of snow I land breaks the fall.

The portal, now in front of me, is closing again already, the images of Kel'Thuzad and his nerubian underling vanish as I vow my silent revenge.

But it's no use. I might as well close my eyes.

The bastards!

I try to calm down and breathe steadily. I've never managed to get rid of this old habit...

Dammit! Is this really supposed to be it?

Everything I fought for... everything I sacrificed... was in vain?

No! I can't be..!

I just need to clear my thoughts.

This is exactly what I wanted.

Isn't it not?

I notice how someone or something is dragging me away by my shoulders.

I don't bother to have a look. I know everything that might be of importance already... and no matter what or who I'd be gazing at from these empty eyes, it wouldn't prevent my world dying anyhow.

There is only thing left to cling to now...

The new beginning awaits yet again.


	30. The Kiss of Nightfall Prologue

The Kiss of Nightfall

_Prologue_

_Toughened from the cold and strengthened by the shadows._

_I come and bring to you the dogmas of my master. _

_For I serve him, and him alone, in all eternity. _

_And as it is my faith to obey his words, I will show you his gratitude, his omniscience. _

_For that you too will follow his words and obey his every command. _

_As every king he will ask you for a small gift, a present of your willingness. _

_And shalt you offer something worthy of him - he will return your generosity and return things to you beyond your wildest imagination. _

_But if you falter or even refuse to show commitment, his rage will overcome you. Then he will show you his strength. You will no longer receive any of his generosity or gratitude. For you he will become the shadows devouring the light, for you he will become the chill freezing the blood in your veins._

_And then he will take the things he desires by force. _

_His might is endless, his followers are numerous. Only a fool would dare to challenge the master, for every man or woman that took a stand against him now too serve loyally in his army. _

_No matter what his foes should do or who might oppose him, rest assured that none of them will be able to defy him, not the arrogant Kirin Tor, not the overzealous Argent Dawn. _

_The day will soon come when you have to make the choice, whether you follow him or provoke his wrath. On this day you will have the choice to discard your mortality or die by his sword. But if you choose the second, be sure that you will suffer endless agony as a restless soul trapped within this world._

_I too have made my choice a long time ago. _

_Now I serve the master in death, just as I did in life. And for this commitment he granted me immortality and the might to control over ice and shadow as I wished. He taught me things nobody else would have known. And he offered me a vessel to spread his doctrine in the world. _

_From that moment on, me and my personal followers offered deliverance for everybody willing to join us and death to anybody who sought to oppose us. _

_Soon the people not understanding what kind of salvation we only wanted to share with them, started to speak my vessel's name in fear, _Naxxramas_._

_But they are too blind, their eyes covered up from false morality and ignorance! They only care for living their own point- and meaningless life. They turn away and don't see what lies beyond the boundaries of this existence. They fear death when we offer them eternal unison! _

_Unlike them I cast aside my mortality to achieve something greater, to achieve the power I wield now with pride. _

_Legions die just from the movement of my hands. Cities crumble underneath the feet of my minions._

_All this was the gift of my master for me._

_And the only thing he wanted in return was my commitment, my servitude. _

_My soul _

_I am grateful that he took the binding shackles of life away from me._

_For he is the king of kings, the master of life and death, the ruler of what lives and what does not_

_For he is the Lich King _

_And I am his servant, Kel'Thuzad. _

Kel'Thuzad,

The Archlich,

Leader of the Cult of the Damned


	31. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 1

_Chapter 1: _

My mind is as blank as a fresh sheet of parchment.

I don't know where I am nor why I'm here in the first place. But whatever..., I don't even know my name.

Yet there is something inside my head, a voice that tells me that everything will be fine how it is. That everything is alright. And that I don't have to worry at all. I'm told that I am currently in the black fortress of Acherus, hovering high above the eastern areas of the plaguelands. Not that I'd know any of those places yet still they ring a bell for me.

As far as my recollection of my life goes I woke up just only minutes ago, lying alone on a rough wooden cart. My feelings were numbed and this still hasn't changed at all. Shortly after the moment of success, when I finally got up from what seems to merely a slumber, three most hideous ghouls came rushing towards me. Usually I would have had to be frightened, but somehow I knew they wouldn't harm me in the slightest. They were my minions or companions at least, eagerly handing me different parts of a dark grey armor from a rack close by. A skull with bright blue eyes was shining forth from the chest piece and now my body too. The only thing they didn't equip me with was a weapon.

The undead things were blabbering the whole time in their guttural speech or moans and snarling. I didn't understand them, yet it seemed they were talking to each other rather vividly.

And now? ... I stand here wearing a full suit of armor, two spiked pads adorning my shoulders. The bones of my undead body are clearly visible at the arms for they wouldn't need as much protection. And as bony fingers went to explore what remained of my face, once described by youth I'm sure, I discovered many few small circular places where my rotten flesh was completely missing.

The room I am standing in right now is as circular as one could ever be with four small vaults to the sides, each of them offering space for something else that seems to me of utter importance for this structure. In one of the vaults I find an alchemical laboratory as I walk around the hall for the first time. In another one I see several black anvils, skeletons standing next to them, hammers flying above their heads only to strike down again. In the third one there stands the cart which I was seated on only moments ago and in the last and final vault I see a pile of dead bodies. Every once in a while one of them digs itself out into the freedom of this world and with that into the servitude and bonds of this prison. In between each of these still rather compact alcoves there is something that I can only describe as a forge, even though it's rather little resemblance. With large fangs the outside of it shows a large skull with a strange blue fire bright and happily burning inside of it.

A muscular man in an ice-blue suit of armor is making his rounds at the back of the hall, his eyes constantly fixed onto me. He is much taller than any human I have ever seen, at least I believe so. The voice in my head tells me how this man is of incredible strength compared to me. I can't tell why but every word that is whispered into my mind already seemed so obvious to me.

'Step forth my future champion...' It then loudly proclaims making wonder if I really was the only one hearing it. Its tone is calm, even somewhat gentle, gathering my trust. And just how it demanded my body started moving on its own. Between the vaults with the anvils and the laboratory there is a wide open space I crossed leading out onto a kind of balcony. I take the eleven steps up on the stone staircase and stand in front of two Val'kyrs, blighted angels of demise usually only found flying high up in the air. They may appear like beautiful maidens to worn out traveler, yet their soul is consumed by as much hatred and darkness as that of any rotten ghoul. Their presence is astonishing, a terrifying sight indeed and not less seductive in their tightened black armor although they themselves shine forth completely in a perfectly pristine white.

The air around me grows colder with every step I take closer to the edge. A well-known feeling my body tells me.

A tall man is standing at the very end of the balcony in front of me, keeping a close watch on the lands down below. It seems we are flying above this area and the voice had proven to speak the truth as it said we were hovering.

The long black cape of the armor he is wearing is already ripped apart at its end, showing off the many battles it had seen and still it never fully lost its elegance.

He slowly turns around to me, as I am now close enough to be in reach. In his right hand he is holding a claymore, using it as support right now.

Just like the sword the rest of his black armor is also decorated with several skulls on the shoulders and the waist, whilst the back of the gloves resemble the claws of a dragon. From his elbows to the shoulders the mail is similar to dragon scales; maybe it was even crafted from those. The plates along his legs look like bones, ribs if you want to be more precise.

The helmet he is wearing is spiked, a worthy crown for an unholy king. Underneath it you can see long white hair falling out in strands as the rest of his face remains hidden by a certain darkness. Not meaning to insult it but something about this armor looks orcish. But my mind is torn away from these menial details and onto the intense blue glow that is coming from his eyes. I seemed almost as if they had turned into flames.

My eyes are now fixed to the sword. Something about it is utterly terrifying, yet then again it is also remarkably beautiful. Above the handle there is the skull of a ram, at least of some sort, its eyes also glowing in a bright blue too. The blade itself is jagged on one side, a flesh-ripper for good measure and glowing in a cold blue runes are shining upon its whole length.

I hear screams, quiet at first, but growing louder with every second longer that I look at the blade. It appears almost as if they are coming from the weapon itself.

If I had to describe it I couldn't but something is drawing me to the sword. I want to possess it. I want to reach out and grab it. I want it to be mine!

But then the man speaks up from his silence; his voice sounding as if he is miles away and not at all so close as he is standing right in front of me now. Unworthy of his words I know my place and kneel down.

"All that I am: anger, cruelty, vengeance - I bestow upon you, my chosen knight. I have granted you immortality so that you herald in a new, dark age for the Scourge."

His eyes are gazing right into my mind with their blue fire.

"Gaze upon the lands below us. The Scarlet Crusade scurries to undo my work, while Light's Hope stands defiantly against us - a blemish upon these plaguelands. They must all be shown the price for their defiance."

I stand up and take a look over the edge, down into the green parts of the land just as he had wished of me.

"You will become my force of retribution. Where you tread, doom will follow. Go now and claim your destiny, death knight."

I bow and back off slowly. Now the voice in my head starts talking again.

'You will become one of my champions, go forth now. The instructor Razuvious is already waiting for you.'

With this I know I have to talk to the tall man in the ice-blue suit of armor all of a sudden.

And as I stand in front of him not many seconds later I begin to feel terribly small.

"You have heard the call of your new master, now the time has come to answer it!" He says with a clear and strong voice. "First of, you need a weapon. Take whatever sword you want to use from the weapon racks and talk to one of our skeletal blacksmiths at the rune forges. They will teach you how to carve sufficient runes into the weapon of your choice."

I follow his orders and turn to the racks standing in almost every part of the hall. Quickly I am to find a sword that I wanted to wield. Its blade is jagged just like of the claymore I had seen in the master's hands and the handle looks like the wings of bats. It almost appeared as if a blue eye is staring at you from the side of the blade. I guess this was one reason why nobody had picked up this beautiful weapon before. But that's not all... there are several more engravings on the blade that are toned in a dark red, making it look similar to spilled blood. And the longer I take my time look at the weapon the more I wonder if it might even actually be said spilled fluid of life.

Next I shall take the blade to one of the skeletal blacksmiths, just as I was ordered to. The undead carefully takes the weapon into his hands and gives me a short nod back. The creature is unable to talk, so I guess this means he or at least it ... approves of my choice.

The skeleton takes me over to one of the rune forges idly standing around. There it puts the blade into the blue flames for a short moment as in the meantime the undead takes up some kind of strange curved tools with his bony hands which I suppose he needs to carve the runes into the weapon. After taking the weapon out of the fire again it seems that everything is fairly easy to carve into it. Yet again, only few moments later the runes shine in a light blue and the blade has turned out to be as hard as ever before. It looked actually surprisingly easy and I guess I won't need any help the next time I get a weapon for usage.

The moment I take the sword into my hands I feel strength rising in me, the empty weakness of this hull finally leaving my soul.

With the runes now shining on the blade I return to the instructor as he had asked.

"Fine, now that you have a weapon suitable for yourself we can carry on. Yet you still have a very different problem to face – the endless hunger. You are a former Forsaken I do not doubt that you had to deal with this issue before. Yet as a part of the Scourge I can give you a something better than the dried flesh of animals. There is a 'cure' for the hunger, so you will never have to worry about this ever again." Razuvious looks into the middle of the room.

"This will also serve to be a first test for you... This key will offer you the salvation we all once sought." Without hesitation the instructor takes a small key with a skull handle out of his pockets and hands it to me. "Initiates like you that prove unworthy for our dark brotherhood are enchained here in the very core of Acherus. Take the key and set one of them free. Take any one you wish – it will be your judgment the tormented souls shall heed. Whoever you pick - let him take his armor and a weapon and tell him about his fate. That you will stand against him, raise your sword in the Lich King's name and should he be able to overpower you he will be granted the second chance amongst us he once begged us for." A grim smile comes to Razuvious' face. "Now go! If you kill him, your pain will end and you will feel no hunger ever again. His soul shall feed you for all eternity! But should you lose... Let me tell you, I'm sure you will still be a fine ghoul for our legions."

Without a single word wasted I bow once before the instructor and then back off.

'Your touch will freeze the blood in the veins of every enemy you face and your blade will deliver blows tearing flesh asunder, spreading my diseases...'

Once again I hear the whispers in my mind.

Seven steps lead down to the circle inside the hall with the enchained ones. A dark violet light comes from the chains holding them, all of them deemed unworthy for our brotherhood.

I look around and spot several bloodelves and gnomes. People of those races are usually weak, I figured, so I have no concern beating one of them. As my wander around further I see a troll, an orc, a human, a few Forsaken and a draenei. I wonder why the orc is here for moment, concerning everybody else it is surprisingly clear to me. They all lack strength and determination. Usually I would not have doubt in the Forsaken, yet I could see it in their eyes. There is no fire left in them, they would all fail..., sooner or later.

It proves hard to decide which one I want to fight. I never was in combat, not that I know of, yet I am still fairly confident that I would be the strongest person now standing in this part of the room.

After a while of thinking I finally step up to one of the Forsaken kneeling approximately in the middle of the room. He slowly raises his head as he sees me.

"Are you the executioner?" He asks with a low, drained voice. I shortly shake my head in response.

"No, but I am your last chance, you fool!" My voice is dry of any emotion. "Fight me... If you are able to overcome me, you will be set free from your chains and receive the second chance in the dark brotherhood. If not... you may rot with the ghouls."

Razuvious looks down on us as I have chosen my opponent. It had taken long enough...

The key fits perfectly into the key hole. As I turn it in the lock, the chains vanish in an instant. Still not fueled by the sudden freedom the Forsaken only slowly gets to his feet.

"GET GOING! This is your last chance!" I yell at the undead with an unknown wrath. He hurries and puts his armor on and takes a sword from the rack close by. As he stands in front of me now I can see the fear in his eyes.

'Kill him my nameless child!' The voice in my head screams at me. 'KILL HIM AND YOU ARE WORTHY TO BECOME MY UNHOLY CHAMPION!'

The Forsaken is shacking, what a miserable sight indeed.

He lifts his blade and tries to attack me. An effort in vain, his strike lacks strength, agility and most of all determination... Before he can even conduct this first blow, the tip of my blade has already pierced his chest. The light in the eyes of the Forsaken fades quickly. With a powerful jerk to the side I pull my sword out, cutting through most of his body. The blade of my opponent drops to the floor. Motionless the body sinks down now resting there next to the weapon.

Come to think of it..., he was wearing the same armor as I am. I guess I will have to be careful looking at how easily my blade ripped it apart.

I leave the lower area and make my way back to Razuvious. A necromancer passes me on my way with a grim smile for me. I wonder if this ghoul would still be of any use for them.

"You did fine, just as I had expected from a knight that I have chosen by myself. Your strength is truly remarkable... maybe one day even close to my own." He chose me? Really...? "The Lich King is calling for you. Now go forth. Do not let him wait. I will be keen to hear from your progress. Suffer well.., brother."

My body again, moves on its own, the voice echoing in my head now as calm as before once again.

'My new unholy knight... I expect great things of you and I know you will be able to become a worthy champion of the Scourge! Your path shall only lead you to strength and immortality right at my side where you belong.'

I kneel down in front of the Lich King.

"The time for bloodshed draws nearer, my champion. I know that you are eager to get into the fight, yet first you have to understand what we want to destroy. I will offer you my sight. A sight that is beyond 'normal' seeing. I will show you what we are aiming for. Now close your eyes!"

I do as he orders me to. In my mind I see pictures of four buildings of the Crusade flashing by. Their banners are hanging everywhere. A filthy plague from the human lands defiling this world...

The first thing I see is definitely a forge.

'We have to cut off their supplies and all possibilities to reinforce themselves.'

Seconds later I see a large human fortress and a town hall.

'We will strike at the confined heart of the city and bring down their leaders as well as the military forces.'

The last thing I see is a little chapel next to an apple plantation.

'If we take out their religious head too in close succession, the crusaders will be helpless. They will lose their false faith and be ready for taking. The final initiation! Once we have taken out these four buildings, the pitiful Scarlet Crusade will be no more and we will be able to focus our full attention on Light's Hope Chapel.'

The longer I hear his voice talking to me, the colder my surrounding gets, it feels as if I am kneeling on solid ice after a while.

"Open your eyes now, my knight. You will get further instructions from my most trusted. Highlord Mograine is waiting for you on the lower floor of Acherus. Go to him! Obtain you appointed task and carry out my gift into the world. May the fight begin and your thirst for blood never cease."

I get back to my feet and bow deeply once right before I head off to the teleporter leading to the lower areas. Something in my mind tells me the way that I have to take. There is just no normal explanation for how I know all of this.

The teleporter itself is a circular stone glowing in a bright violet, the vertical slot on it letting it look like the eye of some creature.

I step onto it without a second's hesitation.


	32. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 2

_Chapter 2: _

Only a few seconds later as I step out of the teleporter on the lower floor, my legs are still shacking a bit. I'm not used to travelling like this at all.

Straight to my left, only a couple of meters away I spot two men and a male bloodelf standing there off to the side, each of them sporting a full set of armor similar mine as they seem more or less absorbed with talking to each other. Only after taking a short yet somewhat closer look I manage to see a couple of differences. Their armor has a dark blue, almost violet toning, with the weld held in a darkish grey. All in all there is nothing especially remarkable about it.

They stopped their conversation for a moment or at least the elf seemed to shut up as all three of them are now looking towards me from their cold blue eyes. Was it something I'd done?

No... No that couldn't be, none of them is looking down on me. It is not as if I were nothing more than a ghoul or a worthless acolyte, it seems quite the contrary actually. After only a short moment of hesitation, agitation and a wild mixture of other pretention feelings the bloodelf of the group even lifts his hand to greet me. Not sure how to take it I respond with a short nod of my head and keep on walking, not offering a second gaze of my own.

'The spearhead of my army is now completed with you. Go now, my champion! Call out the war we have been preparing for! Talk to the Highlord... Mograine will send the troops out to attack!'

I do not question anything what happens yet again it still is somewhat irritating. Being ordered around like this and all...

As I drew closer to the center of this lower level I knew the man I was to seek out. Quite frankly I had already seen him from the moment on when I had stepped out of the teleporter. This lower area has an upper ring to it and a rather small circular area in the middle that you easily can reach by walking down a little slope. The walls down here are broken up and left out completely, a constant wind grazing the folios spread out on tables close by.

The Highlord with the corrupted Ashbringer on his back, a weapon I recognized at first sight and another death knight with long white hair are sitting on their mounts in the middle of this place. It is a perfect circle in between the four paths leading to the upper ring. The giant mushrooms of the eastern plaguelands as well as the green fields of the eastern coastline that are still untouched by the plague are in view from up here. The rest of the bookshelves scattered out rather randomly are not untouched either. Necromancers of young and old come rushing here grabbing books filled with wisdom of the dark arts, amongst them a strange looking elf is reading in a couple of them set to side. He looks strange, fairly different to the bloodelves and nightelves I knew or those that I had seen in Acherus so far. His skin is easily as grey as ashes and his ears are a lot shorter than of all the other elves, the mask on his face adorned by bleak fangs.

He takes a look over his shoulder and sees me standing near our Highlord. Our eyes meet for maybe half a second and still the lust for blood reaches me and fancies my own.

But I'm drawn away from just as easily... I felt the extreme power coming from the Ashbringer on the back of Mograine. This truly is a fearsome weapon, yet still... it is of no interest to me as I can safely say. It is the blade of the Lich King himself that I am attracted to. I can see the heresy in front of my inner eye just. How I hold the ice-cold blade. Frostmourne I reckon to be its name, though I had never heard it before. Then again... it told me on its own accord.

My body like a puppet dancing according to the strings again, I kneel down before Mograine.

His armor has much darker coloring showing almost none of is blighted skin at all. The helmet as well as the shoulder pads each are resembling horned skulls with the familiar ice-blue glow coming from their eyes. The steed he is sitting on is clad in a full set of armor. Its fur is as black as tar and the mail on its back and neck is crimson almost like human blood, skulls of his victims hanging down from the side of it, probably trophies he collected during the years of servitude. This mount looks by far more suitable for a death knight than those 'normal' skeletal horses like of the Forsaken that I once envied. But in the end this too is also only a lone memory that I never knew of.

"Speak, initiate!" His voice is strong and demanding, just as you expect of a leader.

"I bring order from the master." My lips move on their own, but I don't fight it... On the contrary..., I give in. "The preparations are about to be completed. The final judgment has been passed: Death. Send out the first troops."

"Well then, you and your brethren will lead the charge. The march upon New Avalon shall begin!"

He makes a sign with his right hand and out of the void around us four Val'kyrs appear on the edges of the platform we are standing on, one of them blowing loudly into a horn.

'Armies of the Scourge, hear my call!' I hear the voice of the Lich King resonating in my mind. 'The scarlet apocalypse has begun! Tear this land asunder and leave only death behind in your wake!'

"As for you, initiate, you shall be sent down to the breach together with Orbaz, Koltira and Thassarian. Orbaz will be in charge of the ground forces as of now. The other three of you will be assigned to the most urgent tasks at hand, supporting the march of our army to your fullest capacity. Now go forth, death knight, bring us blood. Only to the victor there shall be the glory!"

I stand up and back off in silence. I know what I have to do and I will not tally. The blue eyes of Mograine still keep burning through the back of my head.

As I reach the upper circle yet again I now realize that the three people the Highlord was referring to are the ones standing up here.

'The Scarlet Crusade must be eliminated at all cost!' The voice in my head speaks up again seemingly never tiring in its persuasion.

Curious I draw closer to the three of them. The elf turns to me immediately and offers me his hand as a friendly greeting.

"Koltira is my name, so you are the one we have been waiting for? The fourth of our group?" He speaks without being asked. The color of his skin is of a light grey almost white even, his face haggard. I don't respond to any of his for me empty words, I only look at him. A judgment of my own was easily passed. Something already tells me that he is the weakest of us by far. He lacks strength in combat and discipline. I know this might only be an assumption or a feeling, yet again I look at the elf and somehow I can't deny these thoughts. But worst of all... his eyes... they are merciful.

Opposing him there stands a man with a full white beard and shoulder-long evenly white hair. His eyes are surrounded by strange violet markings. I shortly wonder if that might be blood still trapped in his veins, now for all eternity. The third death knight standing here with them is the only one with a darkened skin. He is wearing a helmet, leaving not much of his face visible to others. A careful one I take it as only the glowing blue eyes that every death knight has are left to be seen. Yet something about this man is already bothering me. He is without doubt the complete opposite of the elf. With ease I can tell how dangerous he is, even for his so-called comrades. But maybe I on my own part only lack a bit of cruelty at the moment to fully understand and read him. The voice in my head tells me his name, revealing that this is Orbaz, strongest competitor for me.

At his command, the four of us now make our way over to the balcony of this level. Another bloodelf death knight is already awaiting us there. He is swift to offer us the possibility to get to the breach below. He had already prepared the undead gryphons for each of us so the time wasted remained at a minimum.

The moment I get onto the back of the creature it already takes off. It flies quite fast and is eager to deliver me to where I had to go in order to fulfill my calling.

As soon as I first set foot into the camp of the Scourge, I already know – I already feel how the plaguelands are still spreading in this area. For a moment the landscape appears to me as a vivid creature, roaring up as it fights the green parasite invading from the coast and only a split second later the vibration under my feet stops and everything seems normal again: quiet and dead.

The grass in this area is already rotting away, turning brown as it is still growing. And whilst my gaze shifts along the outlining of the area to conquer the first thing I can spot is the large banner of the Scourge. The sword of the Lich King in the center of it, with two shattered dwarven maces forming a cross behind it - not to forget the two human skulls pronged onto two wooden spikes, and the icicles hanging from the ends.

The main part of the camp is a merely group of tents, offering shelter for various soldiers of the Scourge, higher and lower rank alike. A pit filled with dead bodies not yet tended to by the necromancers is nearby and still, from time to time you can see a lone ghoul crawling out of it from underneath the corpses solely fueled by the proximity to our one king and master.

After Thassarian had landed, he was the last of us four - Orbaz finally gives us our new orders. He says that I shall stay here for the moment and help out in the base camp with all the menial and truly pathetic tasks they would need my aid for whilst the three of them would launch the first direct attacks against the enemy. He was sure that I would find something to do back here. The whole time he refers to me only as 'the nameless one'.

True thing... not even I know my name.

Anyways the three of them are quick to leave me here to my own ends and the wishes of our superiors. I shalt not be disappointed, though it is all as our king wished of me, though he knows I would rather prove my worth by standing in his front lines. But it matters not... he tells me this time would come soon enough.

A lot of geists are roaming the area I notice as I look for whom's bidding I should follow. They are lower undead minions of the scourge, hardly any more than cannon fodder or messengers. Despite their crippled human body they tend to crawl and are only seldom able to talk, usually known to only emit strange crackling and muffled sounds. Nevertheless, they remain surprisingly agile as I have seen them jumping around here in front of me.

Now on my own I use the chance to take a swift look around and into the tents. In the largest one I find another of the strange elves with the crude fangs on their masks.

I know I should talk to him, so I step forth. He looks at me, eyes glistening and makes some strange sniffing sounds before he begins to speak.

"Do you smell it?" The elf closes in on me. "This is the scent of fresh meat, ever so bloody and sweet." He makes a short pause. "But my apologies... I'm sure you are not interested in my choice of fine cuisine. You are here to work. The Lich King has told me everything I need to know about you. The time for bloodshed has finally come! The Scarlet harvest may begin!" The elf looks around, his hands awkwardly twitching a few times. "My first task for you is simple... Kill for me! Kill without restraint. The foolish humans of the crusade try to push us back. They think they can stop us from attacking them. They believe that they still have a chance in defeating us! They will pay for their foolishness and arrogance. Go out there and kill as many of them as you find, do not hesitate to strike. There is no difference between a warrior of the crusade or what they call a civilian. All of them shall serve a new master... OUR master!"

I back off and leave the tent as he still ravels in the delight of his own imagination. Now I finally have my first mission. I would have expected something more... challenging than simple killing..., but I don't care. My only purpose is to follow the orders my master gives to me, not to question them.

Yet tight outside the tent I'm stopped once again. The man building up in front of me is wearing a strange kind of armor, nothing like the death knights are wearing, with a shawl covering up his face. He calls himself Salanar the Horsemen.

"So you are the praised death knight... oh yes the master has told me about you. I have an advice for you when you go out into battle later. Try to bring back one of the steeds of the Crusade. A death knight of your calling is in need of an appropriate mount, wouldn't you agree? If you are able and willing to bring me one of the horses from their stables, I will send it to the realm of shadows, where it will merge with the violent energies there to become a fine deathcharger..."

I interrupt him bluntly before he could finish up his sentence, "I'll consider..." I sound rather annoyed and truthfully I was. But he just ignores what I said and finishes before he just returns to his tent.

"... just like my personal steed or the one of the Highlord, Darion Mograine."

The last part makes everything about this whole matter a lot more interesting for me. That... thing he was riding... animal or not, a majestic creature no doubt.

With this imminent disturbance out of the way I then turn myself to the east to have another look at the pit filled with dead bodies. Solely out of morbid curiosity I guess. Standing up close in front of it I wonder whether I would ever be able to control one such ghouls as they come out of it or not. And just while I am asking myself this silent question, one of the many Val'kyr guarding this first base of operation approaches me from the side. The only difference to the ones I have seen before is that this one has long golden hair.

"Hear the call of Death's Challenge!" She announces as she comes closer to me. "You too must undergo this ritual that was born from the Lich King's victory over Illidan Stormrage. Your strength is contested by this initiate and you are not allowed to refuse the challenge." A human in a set of armor similar to mine is standing next to the blighted angel with a foul grin on his face.

"The fight shall commence now!" She announces as a warden with a lifeless voice and the human dashes towards me without delay.

"Tonight you shall rot with the ghouls!" He yells out with the arrogance only a peasant could muster.

I'm still a bit startled, yet I raise my sword quick enough to parry the attack successfully.

"I actually did not intend to stick around here for too much longer, so would you mind to just... piss off?" I bellow at my opponent rightfully.

"You heard her... you're not allowed to refuse the challenge! If you want to end this quickly than just put down the sword and I'll grant you the quick end you deserve."

That idiot just went ahead and ruined the good mood I was in only moments ago.

"You have no idea who you are talking to, human..." I reply with all the hate I feel for people that are constantly pestering and even, keep mocking you. So I was especially swift to decide that I should just not bother to reason with him any much longer. Each word would be a lost one. I shall just make it as quick as possible.

With one strong push I shove him away, throwing him off balance and making him tumble backwards. I raise my weapon high above my head, yet actually aim for his right leg. I hope the stance would distract him and indeed it did.

With a swift strike I lead my blade towards his legs instead of the upper body he was protecting and the sword cuts through rough flesh and brittle bone alike without problems. Now missing half a leg the death knight initiate falls to the ground writhing like the worm he is. Lying on his stomach I step onto his back with a foot of my own, fixing him in place as I thrust my blade into his back forcing him to spit out the laughable rest of the blood that was still circulating in the veins of his undead body.

The Val'kyr then draws closer again, one hand raised high.

"To the victor goes the glory, death knight. The Lich King looks upon you favorably today."

I turn around and back off again as her empty still echoes in my ears. Probably it's the best to get going right away before even more of these idiots would show up and try to challenge me no matter how many I would cut down. In the meantime the Val'kyr revives the fallen initiate that I had defeated so easily as the ghoul he threatened me to become. The whole body of the rendered creature is trembling as he ... or it gets up to its ... well... foot.

I guess getting promoted in this organization won't be that difficult after all.


	33. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 3

_Chapter 3: _

Screams of finest agony and purest despair fill the air as I enter the village of Havenshire. It seems the other death knights are already making good progress in terrorizing the Scarlet Crusade here amongst their own borders.

Some of the workers are quite valorous admittedly. Though they are easily about as brave as it would already be considered stupidity. Our archers let a rain of arrows go down over the whole widespread area yet they keep up their work, collecting wood for the sawmills or working in the fields without ever ceasing or turning to flee from the hideous enemy that come marching down into their beloved home.

How can one be such an idiot, such a fool facing his own demise? Or maybe..., just maybe it is a stout facade and they are forced to do this. I can see guards looking out for every single one of them after all. But well..., I guess it doesn't matter in the end, for they will all fall to my blade. And to run now, would not help anymore.

I almost pity them for an instance, for they are so weak and blatantly foolish even as the gaze of our king lies upon them. And as I approach the first line of workers by the trees they keep on working as long as I am not in a swords range where I would become an imminent threat for them. I know that the one closest had noticed me a while ago, he kept looking over to me regularly, tracking how close I had already gotten to him and still he did not lay axe down but kept chopping away on the old grown-out tree trunks instead.

It was only as I had already raised my blade to strike, that he started to tremble in fear and crouched down.

"Have mercy with me..., I beg of you! Please... I have a family. I'm father of five children!"

I don't really listen to what he says. I doubt any of it would be the truth and even if the voice in my head overshadows it all.

'No mercy!' My king demands. 'They shall all die at your feet!'

My sword cuts through the air as well as the body of the human with ease. Blood is spilled onto the ground and covers the green grass in crimson shower. Something tells me that soon a lot of the great mushrooms from the rest of the plaguelands would also start growing here in large numbers.

I make my way further over to the saw mill. I had decided to head there first then after I had finished the workers inside it I will focus on the fields and on my way back I will grab a horse from the stables nearby. I'm just too curious if that 'rider' is really able to give me such a steed as he had proclaimed.

From here on out my venture as the envoy of the end shall begin.

None of the crusaders I meet poses as a real opponent for me. Still it does not take long for the urge to kill to come back to my mind. It quite quickly absorbs almost all of my clear thoughts replacing them with other 'clear' things...

As I enter the sawmill I cut down the first worker immediately. As this blood is spread, free from the veins and flying through the air some of it lands on my hands, a few spurts hit my face and the rest would serve as a new coating for the wood freshly cut. Something about this feeling, the crimson flowing free everywhere is deceiving. I just love it!

The urge to kill is always followed by an unknown rage giving you the strength and endurance you otherwise maybe lacked. And even though I didn't need it, it surely helped clearing out this place. I slaughtered everyone nearby within only few minutes. The wood now lies here drenched in blood as this would surely form a nice crimson coloring matching their clothes.

As I leave, I let the rage consume my mind to the fullest. I see how the crusaders in front of me move their lips. I see how they pray to the light on last time, yet I don't hear anything of it anymore. My senses are numbed, blocking out everything irrelevant. My sight is the only thing that's still crystal clear. And all I can hear right now in my head are the words of the Lich King.

'No mercy!' ... 'No survivors!' ... 'Mercy is only for the weak!'

I will not be merciful...

I will not leave survivors...

I will not be weak!

Flesh is torn asunder by my blade with every step I take. Blood is running through the green fields like small rivers, forming pools and ponds in little dips for the days to come. It will take a while for the earth to suck it all up again.

Terror is upon the civilians of Havenshire. I bring the war directly into their homes as I break open the poorly locked doors to the small cottages with strong strikes. There they are standing in groups of four to five, the old and frail as well as the young and pathetic cowering next to each other. But my blade makes no difference between its victims. They are all alike in front of their reaper. The despair shining from their eyes only fuels my madness even further. My killing spree drawn out as it is could probably keep on going for days like this.

Some of the villagers try to run... little do they know that this will be only a fruitless effort. The longer I keep on fighting, the stronger my connection to the shadows and to my master gets. Firing a jet of shadow magic at my opponent is rather easy for me once I delivered a few blows and drenched my weapon with blood. The shadows eagerly accept it as a payment.

The only ones that are even more pathetic are those that do not run, but try to fight and stand against me. They punch against my armor hitting one of the many spikes or knobs injuring themselves.

'Show them true despair!'

I will my king... I will, for I am your arm, your rage, your retribution..., your weapon!

As I return from the fields and make my way over to the stables, the earth under my feet makes splashing sounds with every step I take. A lot of blood had been shed here today and I'm not sure their crops would ever grow again in this place.

I reach the stable only short moments later. I cut down the front guards at its entrance without bigger effort and take the time to have a look around first. I find a beautiful black horse in one of the open buildings idly waiting for its old master. Unsure whether or not I had him cut I decide to take this fine animal with me. No matter if the steed I was promised may be undead or even a demon - this one would surely turn out be a fine deathcharger either way.

It takes a moment for me to get onto its back as it avidly shows me rather straight away how headstrong this particular one would be. A fine choice I figure as it keeps on putting up a fight. It takes a while until it finally runs out of energy and a few rather harsh kicks in the side for it to move forward at all. It even tries to throw me off a couple of times, once almost succeeding. But after that, I don't know what happened whether it accepted its fate or something but it began to obey my every command.

The way back to basecamp wasn't too long and passed by even faster on the back of this horse. Truly a fine animal, but life is so fragile... so unfitting.

Upon entering the general vicinity of the camp Salanar approaches me again and stops right in front of me.

"This specimen looks stout and sturdy. Well done..."

As I get off the back of the horse Salanar presses his hand onto the forehead of the now calm animal. A dark fog suddenly comes creeping up from down the hill and everywhere around us consuming it within seconds, leaving only a blurry image behind as the horse snickers loudly in fear one last time. Salanar tries to calm it down a bit, apparently with success.

"Be calm my friend, it will all be over soon."

The moment the creature has completely vanished, also the dense fog disappears in its entirety. Salanar then turns to me.

"I sent your new steed to the realm of shadows. A dark rider, a soul lost in between the planes, will kill it for his own ends and revive it as a deathcharger. If you are willing to obtain the mount that I have promised to you, you will have to follow your steed into the elemental plane. I will send you there if you so desire and there you will have to challenge its new rider. Defeat him, kill him by all means, offer his soul to rest and finally claim the mount as your own. The riders are no-one less than spirits of death knights lost to the shadows. So if you fail, you will most likely end as one of them. But they aren't the only danger..., watch out for the tormented souls of other necromancers and warlocks. They are bodiless creatures drawn to sources of great energy like any death knight would be, but concerning you...? You should be a real magnet for them."

I don't take too long to think about it and agree to his offer. Anything that would get me such a mount...! The words of agreement fully spoken and soon I'm also surrounded by a dark grey mist as it grows denser. The world around me loses its color until everything is only another shade of grey. The screams coming from Havenshire sound more and more damped until everything is completely silent around me.

All is quiet in this realm, not even the voice of the Lich King reaches me here. It is similar to the world I was in, an exact copy and yet, it is lifeless. Not a single person is disturbing the peaceful silence. I can even clearly hear the grass crumble under my feet. This silence, this calm is plainly frightening. The light wind blowing high up through the air is complementing it in every way, perfecting the solitude.

I walk on over to the edge of the camp and take a look down into the image of Havenshire. There I see the first other more-or-less living beings beside me. I spot the rider in between sawmill and the fields on his way out of the area. I wonder if there is only one around here and if there might even be any other initiates currently lost in this plane searching for their salvation. Anyways... I too have no time to lose and so I take the western slope down to the fields, it would lead me to him quickest.

With every step I take I grow more uneasy ... I have to get out of here as fast as possible no matter what. I know as much. Something about this realm is freaking me right out.

I pass the saw mill in a hurry. The rider has already spotted me on his own and he doesn't appear to want to make a retreat. The horse rears up and the dark horseman comes charging towards me. I dodge him and his first blow as good as I can. It is much easier to draw energy in this plane, though movement feels limited. Still I manage to immediately send a jet of shadow magic flying at my opponent.

"You fool...!" He takes it as a straight hit, absorbing the full strike. "Now die, outsider! This is no place for you to be!" His voice is hollow, almost like of a val'kyr.

There he comes again, charging at me. I have to dodge, but also at least land one hit on him too. The problem about this is that I should better not injure the horse while doing so. What use would a dead mount be for me? Not making it any easier I still have no other chance but to give it a try.

More or less driven by luck I try to dodge the horse as close as possible. It still hits me with its side which sends me flying after all, yet my blade, carefully brought into position in the time has taken the horsemen off his mount together with me.

Right now this image of the world is spinning around me but he, he rests in the grass right next to me, black blood running from the opened wound on his chest. I can see that much from here.

He doesn't move a single inch in all those moments as my senses stabilize again but nevertheless I decide to take up my weapon and finish him off for good. With a heavy thrust as I stand over him I drive my sword through his armor and body, making sure he would never get up again. I hear how bones are shattered, proving to me that he had been a real person and not only an empty armor forming a vessel for another wretched soul.

The horse then comes towards me fully on its own. I guess the Scourge and everyone connected to the shadows is bound to more rules than you would ever imagine. All those strange rituals and prices you had to pay...

Without delay I get onto the back of the animal as something starts to draw my attention away from my prize. I hear whispers. Someone or something is talking... Where are those coming from I wonder? Only seconds ago everything was completely quiet.

"Hunger..." They say. Repeating it over and over again it is always only the same word at first.

I look around. Then I see them. Black shades slowly coming towards me and the dead body of the horseman. They are approaching from the fields and the saw mill.

"Blood... Thirst... Hunger..."

They are repeating these three words over and over again. At least fifteen of those things are now closing in on me coming from the saw mill alone. Why didn't I notice them before? They must have been already as I had passed by that building earlier!

I spur my horse and ride off towards the image of our encampment. The shades don't seem too interested in me, but more so the black blood of the rider. How fortunate for me, but this streak of sudden luck would not last too long.

Whilst I rush towards the image of the breach in this world I throw a last look over my shoulder only to see how the shades have now turned towards me.

Damn it!

But even worse: as the slight panic from the back of my head begins to spread I notice it. That god forsaken horseman had not told me how to get out of this realm!

"SALANAR! I curse you!" I scream out into the emptiness in anger.

And only a short moment later I see his shadowy figure appearing out of his tent. I see his lips moving, but I don't hear anything at all. Slowly the world around me gets infused with color again and the silence is replaced by actual sounds – the screams of the damned and the moans of the undead.

"You succeeded where other initiates fail miserably. I was awaiting this outcome, yet I have to say I still remain impressed." He looks at my steed and so do I. It has a black fur just like the one of the Highlord too but with two large horns framing its head. Its hooves are glowing in a bright blue so that it almost seems white. The biggest difference is that it's wearing a black armor, but I guess this difference in color is just a difference in taste of the horseman that revived it.

I get off its back and dismiss it back into its own plane for now. Surely it returned to shadows at least I assume that is the place where it's going to. After all it isn't a 'real' undead horse like the ones of the Forsaken, it's more like a fiend or a nightmare.

"This is a fine mount you now have Be sure to give it a proper name."

I couldn't care less about naming my horse.


	34. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 4

_Chapter 4: _

The horseman finally dealt with for good I can now approach the strange elf again even if to tell him that I have done what he had asked of me. As I come closer he is still talking with another of the many death knight initiates giving him almost exactly the same instructions as I had.

Bloodprince Valanar - that is the name the initiate used for him.

And just I had hoped there wasn't too much talking involved in the end. I am sent away basically the same moment I reached him. The elf briefly tells me something about one of the High Necromancers of the Lich King, how this man is here to graces us with his divine presence.

"Gothik the Harvester is accompanying us during these most grim hours for any of our foes to share his gifts with the whole of the Scarlet Crusade. You should consider talking to him, he is... anxious to meet you." The elf smirks as his words trail off into the open sky.

I bow slightly and respond with a short "I will." before I back off again.

Gothik is actually a rather old man as I am to find only few moments later, very thin and frail. He has a long white beard and is rather tall, wearing a dark blue robe. He also seems still pretty much alive to me. A higher ranked minion of the Scourge who still in possession of a beating heart...?

How awkward - yet still impressive

You just have to wonder how strong he might become if he was to turn into a lich one day. I will keep my eyes on him, should he be able to harness such power.

"So you are the one... The master has told me about you and I'm rather sure that you will be capable of aiding me, not like most of the mindless fools around us. Yet it seems strange that someone like you isn't even able to raise his own ghoul by now. But well, I might show you how if you do as well as I expect. Even a prodigy sometimes needs a head start..."

The Harvester turns around to his altar for a second and takes something off it before handing it over to me. "This little device contains a highly concentrated version of the plague we use to find and recruit new followers. They will only have to take a sniff or two and their bodies will readily go into submission and fall apart. Be careful not to breathe in too much of it of your own, as it could also affect you at a certain dosage." The dark eyes of the High Necromancer stare at me, faintly glistening with excitement. "Your task is pretty simple. Go to the mine close by and let the miners deep inside take a nose full of our present and bring it back to me. Once enough of them are converted, the rest will flee in panic leaving their backs open for our on-going attacks. That is all that there is to it."

Gothik clears his throat. "Those pitiful fools, they will all fight it. Their sight is too limited to see this is actually a gift, a gift that just keeps on giving!" The Harvester then takes a drawn out look over the lands of Havenshire that have been mostly drenched in blood by now. "Now, my privileged friend, I came here from the frozen heart of Naxxramas itself, so don't dare to disappoint me."

I was about to reply just before I could hold myself back in the last moment. Words wouldn't do anything for me right now. It would be actions that that are to underline my fate.

The mine is to the east of our camp. It is heavily guarded by the enemy most of the time, as it is closest to us and of some importance for their resource management. Yet by now most of the soldiers were called off to Havenshire after our first strike at the village had shattered their ill assigned defenses with ease.

On my way over to the objective several initiates come rushing past me, all yelling things like "By the might of Mograine!" or if they are a bit simpler, usually orcs or dwarves, they just call out "Destruction!" or "Annihilation!", although I do have to say the last one is already a bit more difficult. Surprising to say the least what fools come crawling from the gutters of this world and find a place at the side of my king. A quick execution would be in order, but quite frankly I did not have the time to sort out own ranks just now and well, even a fool can do his part for our advance.

There are still a few guards outside the mine as I reach it, but all of them are locked in combat with initiates of us, so I'm quick to make up my mind and don't bother about them at all. I just enter at my own will.

'Kill them! Revive them! Frostmourne hungers for their souls! Let it feast! Let the armies grow!'

The voice in my head sounds more demanding than usual though not as aggressive.

I take the strange device I had been given and go around the first few corners in search for the miners. I spot corpses in some smaller alcoves, I guess those weren't worthy of becoming part of the Scourge or maybe they just rejected this most generous gift of all.

Thought the sound of pickaxes hitting stone still fills the cave, the monotony of it is only disrupted by short and sudden screams coming from different areas of the mine letting the miners stop for a second or two each time they occur.

All in all I have to say the mine is fairly well lit to my surprise, the dead bodies, now growing in number as I venture deeper into the shafts and the blood curdling on the stone like ruby hidden in a vein clearly visible for the open eye.

As I get to an intersection of three different larger hallways, each of them sporting many different smaller shafts I see a green mist creeping out of one of many to my right. I don't hesitate to take a closer look and find an orcish death knight initiate lying in the middle of it next to a device similar to the one Gothik had given to me. He is still heavily coughing, spitting up black blood as his already rotten flesh dissolves into a formless goo. That idiot... He probably has taken a deep breath of the gas against all the warnings or for whatever reason. Maybe the machine just went off on him, just like that.

'Mercy is for the weak!' The voice in my head speaks up to me the moment I see the dying initiate. He soon will be standing among us again, as a ghoul, I remind myself. And surely this should be a fate more suitable for someone of the likes of him.

As I go deeper into the mine I finally find some of the miners I seek, working in a kind of pit with only a single one way up. There are three of them down there, a great opportunity for me to test this little gadget without endangering myself too much.

Upon having a closer look I find a kind of trigger on its side, so I just push the button and throw the can down into the pit. The green mist is set loose immediately it leaves my grip. It spreads fast and almost fills the cavity up to an amount that the fog pours out of it at my feet.

The screams of the miners soon turn into coughing and not much later silence. And only a couple more moments later I hear moaning. Slowly three ghouls come ascending up the way once leading down into the pit now filled with gas and death. Their skin looks as if it was partially burned directly off their bodies, chunks of bare flesh hanging down loosely. Seems there is a little bit more to the mist than I had expected. But for me it's just another reason to be careful around it.

Of course this also only opens up another problem for me... I wonder how I could get the thing back out of the pit, but then again I guess I already have a better idea.

I take a quick look into each of the adjacent corridors and just pull the miners out of them one by one. I don't care about how much they struggle, if they break an arm or even if I have to cut off a limb so they'd stop flailing around... it won't matter that much once they are ghouls.

One after the other I throw them into my little deathtrap. Full of delight I listen in on their transformation. I hear bones break as they hit the ground head first, but still it only takes up a few minutes and a ghoul with a disfigured skull comes crawling up again. A truly wondrous magic we have to offer, isn't that so?

But not all of the minions emerge again. I don't know why but some of the ghouls stay down there in the pit idly clattering about with their loosened jaws, but again I don't care much about this either to be honest.

After a good ten ghouls have gathered around me I start to make my way out of the mine, hoping to reach the outside still during the daytime. It's really easy to lose your sense of orientation and time down here... Yet as we pass the corpse of the dumb orc from before I at least know I am on the right track. Unfortunately this discovery also forces me to take a moment and stop because three of the ghouls start eating away on remainders of the dead body. I order them to stop and just continue following me till we get to the outside, but only one of them listens to me. I hope it will be easier and quicker if I just allow all of them to feed. They should be done pretty quickly... I hope.

My judgment seems to be right... It really doesn't take too long for them to eat up. After about five minutes or so there is nothing left except a disfigured orcish skeleton. So I guess he won't be becoming a ghoul after all. Either way not too much of a loss I'd say.

I then hurry my pace to leave the mine. And as I finally manage to find the exit there are no guards left close by, they are all retreating to the beach down below as I venture forth with the group of ghouls at my side.

It doesn't take up too much time to return to the Harvester.

He gives me and the ten ghouls that follow my each step a careful look and then speaks up.

"Well... actually you were supposed to leave them in the mine." I raise an eyebrow. "... but fine nonetheless. You surely have presented my gift to a lot of them... and survived for yourself. Do you have the device? Have you brought it back with you?"

I shack my head in response ready to take any sudden punishment that would head my way. To my surprise he stays perfectly calm.

"Yes, I expected as much. Well, this is only a trivial loss. Where one was there are many and the master had told me that you would be rather reckless."

A grim smile comes to his thin lips.

"It was to be expected, maybe even hoped?" He takes hold of my shoulder with his long and bony fingers. "How would you like to take one of the ghouls as your own? A death knight of your power should be in possession of an own undead minion. Or would you rather want to revive a dead body on your own, nameless child?"

I have no idea what I should choose. A minion of my own – surely a good thing; but on the other hand... The ghouls from the mine hardly listened to my commands at all.

"Ah yes. That should not be a problem once you grow stronger and can handle your power with more efficiency, bending it according to the desired effect."

How could he know what I'm thinking about, I boldly question his words?

"The master had told me, you may still appear a bit foolish and overly used to your former life. But I'm sure you will leave this behind you soon enough... It would be better for you and all of us." He turns to the ghouls. "Well then... off you go. Into the pit or I shall end your existence on the spot!" He yells at the undead ones as he waves them away. Quickly they obey his command and scurry into the pit with the dead bodies next us and start digging themselves into the soft and turned over earth. I for my part can only look at the scene in bewilderment, not fully understanding to its full extent.

"There they will rest, serve as a backup for our legions. Once you are strong enough you will be able to call forth one or maybe even more of them yourself depending on how far you shall grow. Usually they are just dispensable and replaceable minions, but some death knights I tell you are even able to raise the same ghoul every time. They raise the tormented spirit, ripped from its old body rather than the corpse itself. But before you can do or even just think about something like this - you still have to go a long way." Gothik turns to his altar. "You ought to talk to the worthless, snobby elf again... He sent for you some time ago."

Without much of a farewell I do as he says and make my way through the growing number of tents over to Valanar immediately. He was again talking to another initiate.

"Bring me their flesh ... still bloody would be fine." The troll nods in response and heads off towards the village taking it as an order. "I was told you did fine, death knight." The bloodprince comes towards me, ignoring every other one that comes rushing for him just now. With a gesture towards the other death knights pointing out that they should get out of his way they are all dismissed without further notice.

"Let me tell you... The master is proud of you." He proclaims upon reaching me. He then puts one hand on my right shoulder and forces me to turn around. "Care for a short walk?" It was intended as a real question. And he wouldn't give me a chance to answer it. "Few of your brethren have survived the first attacks. So be proud of yourself, you are strong. The path you are following might still be long, but the most important steps you have already travelled..."

Yes. Yes, I am strong! Strong enough to survive as a member of the Scourge!

"Go on like this and your future will be blessed. You might even be allowed to be part of the guard of Kel'Thuzad, or any other higher officer inside the black citadel in the frozen lands of Icecrown. Or perhaps... even more."

We slowly walk towards the edge of the steep hillside our camp is set up next to. From here we can overlook the whole of Havenshire, the white walls and towers of the city of New Avalon clearly visible in the distance when put against the dark brownish veil of the sky.

"Havenshire is basically ours. The fields are flooded with the blood of the crusaders, many a death thanks to you my friend. Yet, for the moment our attention is focused mainly on the beach." Valanar points to the east. You can barely see what lies beyond the cliffs, though I can make out a red sail being thrown from left to right by the winds.

"Do you hear it? Do you smell it? They want to flee. Pathetic worms as they are, fear governs every move. As we speak the first wave of our attackers strike. Their ships filled with Thorium and Mithril, they will sink easily, pulled down to the depths of the ocean's floor. But not enough: Except for that, the crusaders are getting reinforcements. They believe us daft, imbecile like the ghouls of our armies. They think they can fool us. Instead of attacking from New Avalon or Tyr's Hand, they board ships, sail around the cliff and attack from below. Worthless efforts..."

Screams fill the air again out of nowhere, followed by a set of explosions going off. I see how the red sail is lit up in flames.

"The fire will devour all what they have struggled for, all their dreams, wishes and last hopes." The elf let lose a short laughter. "Idealistic fools they are... And about you... the master wants to see you in Acherus. You deserve a reward for what you have achieved today."

Prince Valanar turns around again and heads off for his tent without another word for me, mindless ghouls and a handful of initiates already awaiting him there.

I, on the other hand directly go to the skeletal gryphons and their caretakers. To get to Acherus as quickly as possible, that is the current objective.

On my quick way up I have the opportunity to have at least a short look at the beach below. The water at the shore is already completely red, the blood being washed ashore wave by wave. In the background I watch as two more ships of the crusade are set on fire, ready to burn down and leave nothing behind to be salvaged except for the corpses of its once so lively crew.

'Come to me, my unholy knight.'

The calamity unfolding, the screams of those dying are a most certain envoy of death.


	35. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 5

_Chapter 5: _

After having regained solid ground under my feet again I immediately direct my way towards the teleporter to the upper levels.

I close my eyes for my own conservative feelings as I step onto it and within only a few seconds I find myself standing just below the balcony from where the Lich King oversees and directs everything with his divine command.

The first thing I see as I open my eyes again though are the elf named Koltira and the dark skinned man called Orbaz. The elf raises his hand to greet me once again and similar to this trend I just ignore him as per usual. It at least makes me wonder why they were called here too and where of all places the fourth of our group might be.

It surely would be only a matter of time until we are to find out, yet still I am curious and by all means I'm no good at playing the waiting game. Luckily an activity I am not ought to engage right now.

'Step forth my champions!' I hear the voice in my head calling out, speaking to each of us.

In a strange unity I would have never imagined as possible we move equally fast and in a straight line towards the staircase leading onto the balcony. Two of the most beautiful of the val'kyr are flanking the Lich King as they were before. For my part it dawns on me in this moment how they seem to supervise the challenges among the death knights, maybe even initiate them to our king's delight. But those winged horrors aren't the only ones close to the master in this particular moment.

Darion Mograine is standing at the very end of the balcony as close to him as no-one ever dared to come.

We on the other already stop halfway before even reaching their sight and kneel down, again next to each other and in the same straight line. It all happens in perfect unison like being led on invisible strings. The Highlord Mograine is still talking to the Lich King. It would be outrageous for us to disturb them, even though we would only be answering his call.

But soon enough Mograine turns to us and comes closer with strong determined steps whilst the Lich King also slowly shifts his gaze from the battlefield onto his most prized minions for a first time. He is holding his sword in a tight grip just front of him by the handle with the tip hovering directly above the stone floor, sometimes barely scratching the black surface.

Anticipation rising in all of us, there is still fear from the moment when we might hear the sound of his voice hidden deep inside our consciousness. Yet as it turns out it is Mograine who speaks to us though.

"In not even a single day the Scarlet Crusade was successfully driven out of Havenshire and finds itself now back to the wall in New Avalon. The open plaguelands the only place they could run off to as their ships are almost all scattered out amongst the ocean's floor." His gaze wanders from one of us to the next as begins walking an equally slow path in front of us. "It was due to the effort of three of our most valuable knights that made this possible so quickly. It was due to the effort of you. You are the ones who have brought destruction to their villages, chaos to the faith of the Scarlet Crusade and fear to the hearts of their people." He makes a short pause, catching the unnecessary breath. "Now it will be only a matter of time, a matter of hours – no even minutes - until we are able to take New Avalon by storm and destroy the Scarlet Crusade once and for all."

The Highlord takes a few distinct steps to the left where he comes to a stop, facing away from u.

"You three will lead the charges at New Avalon! You have served us well so far and this will be the chance for you to prove yourselves and your worth furthermore. Show us what death has made of you!"

He turns again and walks into the other direction about equally far.

"I am proud of you three. Not many of your brethren have survived these first assaults and not many of those few would ever deserve to receive such a blessing from me... yet you three shine forth even more than that. Not only did you show your current strength and glimpses of the potential all of you still have to awaken fully on the battlefield, but you were also addressed to only the most crucial tasks. Of which, each of you performed them to the full extent and without difficulties. Furthermore you three are the elected ones to have acquired a deathcharger as a worthy mount of your own."

I can hardly imagine the horse being a real reason, but that could be at least a hint on why Thassarian is missing. He was clearly not as strong as Orbaz, but none of us is and despite the odds it would be strange if he should have died already.

"A prosperous future inside the Scourge lies ahead of you, should you continue going on like this; should you not falter or disappoint. You might even become as strong or at least achieve the same renown as the four horsemen that keep guard over the frozen heart of Naxxramas. They are after all four of the most powerful death knights our army has to offer."

Mograine then stops right in front of Orbaz who is kneeling the furthest to the right.

"The Lich King himself has decided to acknowledge your efforts to our cause and wants of me to reward each of you for what bloodshed you have brought upon our enemies today."

He takes the Ashbringer from his back and uses it to support himself, standing as upright as possible.

"Although some of you children have risen from their 'sleep' only in the past two days or even less, you all have done a lot for our campaign and proved yourself worthy to become a captain of the legions of Acherus. Therefore I shall hereby present you with the authority to command the undead legions in the fields as well as initiate death knights of our order."

We are getting promoted? Really this quickly...?

"Additionally you have the privilege to carry a title presented to you by my authority and acknowledged by the Lich King himself. Now... Stand up Orbaz." Mograine looks deeply into his eyes as he stands up in front of him a few moments pass in silence.

"You have led our forces into the victories that were the first assaults towards New Avalon building up the pressure we need to continue onwards. You have delivered hard strikes against the defense of their walls and proven your skills as a tactician, but not enough - your own strength is remarkable, thriving for battle and never ceasing. After breaching the walls of New Avalon your hit-and-run tactics caused chaos and panic amongst the Crusaders. Be sure not to mourn about the few recruits you have lost today, for they were clearly weak and unworthy..."

Orbaz nods once with his eyes focused solely onto the Lich King. There is another moment of silence. Then Orbaz looks down to Koltira for a second or two, his eyes showing a bright mixture of hatred and pity.

"With the authority of the Lich King I hereby proclaim your name to be 'Orbaz Bloodbane' from this moment forth!"

Quickly Mograine moves on to Koltira, in the meantime Orbaz kneels down again, a certain shame hidden in his movement.

"Stand up Koltira." The elf does as he is told, the blue eyes of the Highlord gazing at him relentlessly.

"You were assigned to a dangerous task today, to attack the Chapel of the Crimson Flames directly deep inside the enemy's land. You have proven that the defenses of said area are weak and brought valuable information back to us. After finding no real enemies you moved on to the Towns Hall on your own behalf. A risky move, defying your orders but nevertheless there you were able to gather more pieces of vital information that will be of significance once the attack on the inner structure of New Avalon shall begin. You are most efficient with manipulating the shadows. Your fighting style is keen and not to be underestimated – despite the rather weak blows with your weapon the swiftness of the strikes easily makes up for it. Yet keep in mind, you may be capable of plunging yourself into combat head first against a weak opponent, but be aware not to become too reckless or your days shall be numbered."

Koltira looks to the ground without saying anything further. Silence takes up the room once more. Then out of nowhere he raises his head and nods to our master.

"With the authority of the Lich King I hereby proclaim your name to be 'Koltira Deathweaver' from this moment forth!"

Koltira kneels down just as the Highlord comes to a stop in front of me me.

"Stand up." As I reach the same level as Darion Mograine, it feels as if his eyes are burning right through to the back of my skull and even further beyond.

"You are one of the youngest children of our master. Far too young to even have a name of your own. Yet from the first moment on you already began to show how strong you are to become. Even instructor Razuvious himself spoke very highly of your physical strength only minutes after you stood from the dead." Mograine swallows - another pointless reflex.

"You have proven your worth to us several times over the course of the day. You have slaughtered about half the inhabitants of Havenshire on your own in a single bloody frenzy, you have proven yourself in the rite of Death's Challenge as the only of the three kneeling before me and you have enabled us to attack the beach of Light's Point due to their hesitation after you brought chaos and fear to their people. Your fighting style is brutal, relentless and dominated by pure strength. You are ruthless and know your power as well as its limits. Where you tread, blood will be shed. Shine forth like a true death knight, harness your hate and become even stronger, but keep in mind never to become too reckless..."

After Mograine had finishes his little speech, I hear the voice in my head speaking to me again.

'You are my nameless child... maybe the most important one of them all though. The soul ripped form the body and found a new to settle in... But it does not matter it appears. You already show your prosperity ... Yet more importantly for now: You have offered Frostmourne many souls today. I am proud of you. The army grew remarkably in only this few hours.'

My eyes are already fixed onto the sword again.

'Keep on like this and I might present you with a worthy weapon, most suitable for your path. One day you will become one of my champions, I can tell you this without any doubt. Know that your potential is sheer endless!'

"With the authority of the Lich King I hereby proclaim your name to be 'Malevolence' from this moment forth!"

Mograine's words rip apart the moment of union with our king as he already takes a few steps back away.

"Stand up now, all three of you. The next phase of our attack will commence immediately - The attack on New Avalon. We will destroy their infrastructure along with the frail military defense remaining. Afterwards we will only have to harvest their tormented souls. Return to the breach, there you will receive further instructions. Bloodbane and Deathweaver will pass directly through the enemy lines while you, Malevolence, will support the direct attacks. Everything clear?" I nod silently whilst the other two go ahead and answer with a loud "Yes!"

"Go forth and bring honor to your new names, as well as bleak death to the Scarlet Crusade! Suffer well, brethren." This are his last words before we head off, again pulled along by the invisible rope guiding us on every step we take.

Mograine on his part turns around and makes his way back to the side of the Lich King.

Back on the lower floor Koltira and Orbaz start talking to each other, about their assignment. I have no idea if the elf notices of if he's too dense, but Orbaz clearly is looking down on him. I can't deny him thinking like this... Koltira is clearly weak, even I sense that. But something else just keeps me occupied as I just can't stop wondering what had happened to Thassarian.

Usually I keep quiet, but this time I just have to ask the two.

Bloodbane speaks forth without hesitation. "That idiot lost his weapon out there... he literally lost it."

I can barely do much except for raising an eyebrow. I would have imagined a lot of things but that was more than simply embarrassing. "The weapons that are given to the death knights here are usually made from Thorium, yet his was special... crafted from pure Saronite, a mineral only found in the frozen wastes of Northrend. Bars made of this metal are far harder than Steel, hardened Thorium or anything else found in Azeroth. You need special facilities to even only smelt this certain ore to bars so it would have been fairly useless to them down there, but well... now they have a fully forged weapon in their hands." Orbaz makes a disapproving sound. "One weapon might not sound much - that's right, still it's shameful above all else! Not to mention the fact that it had been an honorary present for his deeds in Silvermoon."

I now understand it a bit better at least, still it makes wonder again what kind of punishment might be attached to such foolishness? How in this world can a warrior lose a weapon like that in the first place?

"He will be joining forces with me in the battlefield, so he is still alive ... yet he's nothing more than a worthless underling to me or any other ranking officer of the Scourge now."

By all means I would have expected something like this from an elf like Koltira, but not of Thassarian. He didn't seem as much the fool... but well, no use wasting time on it any more.

My mind now set on the tasks at hand I take the gryphon down to the breach as the first one of us three. The other two will surely follow me sooner or later. Besides..., why should I care about them? I've got my own assignment.

There is hardly anybody at the tents as I set foot into the camp. While we three received our reward up in the flying fortress of Acherus, down here had been 'redecorated' it seems.

A pedestal was set up next to the hillside downwards, bloodprince Valanar standing upon it. A large banner of the Scourge behind him, it is at least three times as tall as the elf, dead bodies of crusaders hanging from it. I see smoke rising from all around us.

About 20 death knights are kneeling in front of the pedestal and listening to what the elf has to say.

_Open your eyes, brothers and sisters. GAZE UPON APOCALYPSE!_

_The sky itself feeds upon the suffering of the conquered!_

_The Scarlet Crusade is powerless to stop us!_

_The corpses of those that try only serve to feed our expanding host!_

_The Scarlet fleet lies in ruin upon the sundered coast!_

_With each enemy slain, our strength grows! We mustn't relent!_

_The Lich King has spoken to each of you! Let his words resonate among you once more! _

_ALL MUST DIE!_

_Leave no survivors in your wake, brothers and sisters! This is the time to strike down upon them!_

_No mercy for the weak!_

_TERROR!_

_CHAOS!_

_DESTRUCTION!_

_With the approaching darkness comes the end of the Scarlet Crusade. You will battle once more! For the Scourge! For the Lich King!_

_SUFFER WELL, DEATH KNIGHTS!_

The mass shortly applauds after he has finished his little speech from up there.

Those death knights must be the survivors of the first attacks. Mograine had not lied... that really aren't too many.

I had heard that only few were supposed to have survived, but that it is this few comes indeed a bit surprising.


	36. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 6

_Chapter 6: _

"Yes, yes of course... you did wonderful just as we all knew you would." Those were the first words of Valanar as I came even only remotely close to him. I can't fully deny the faint trace of sarcasm amongst it though. "The master has already informed me that you would come. I was merely waiting for you to arrive."

Why does everybody already know what's going to happen? Why does he only tell all of them what to do and I still have run around asking those other minions of his by my own and then stand there like a full-fledged idiot?

"The attacks on the outer line of defense have already started. Ghouls are charging the walls of New Avalon as we speak. Soon that part of their haven will fall just the same way as Havenshire did."

Valanar takes a look over his shoulder.

"But, please... as you can hopefully see I'm rather busy here... would you mind to go to the crypt near the walls of New Avalon? My beloved brother Keleseth will surely tell you where you can be of aid..."

The elf takes his eyes off me immediately and focuses again on a new speech.

Talking to someone around here always ends so ... abruptly and with a certain sense of being played the fool.

But no matter what, complaining to myself will not help so I might as well do as I am told. Little left do here I summon my deathcharger behind the little crowd of death knights that are already listening to the next sermon of the elf. For a moment all eyes turn to me again as my steed steps into this realm with a shriek not too distant from a banshee. I can clearly sense the jealousy in their looks – a good feeling, something I can enjoy.

I turn my fiend of a horse around and slowly head towards my next objective in the south.

Every last building in Havenshire is brightly ablaze as I enter the village.

Few see geists roaming the empty, burned out buildings, jumping around playfully amongst the ashes. Necromancers standing next to piles of bodies trying to find out which of them would be suitable for resurrection as a ghoul. They think about it for a seemingly endless amount of time only to abandon all their thoughts at one point and revive every single one of them in the end. Seeing the corpse stumble about falling over was still the most effective way of finding out their worth.

As I pass the sawmill and head for the fields, the earth is coated with a crust of curdled blood. For a moment I almost believe in feeling a tremor running my spine, followed by a wave of cold... but it's nothing. I couldn't feel it anyhow.

Bodies are scattered out everywhere in many different stages of being burned. I can hardly believe that most of them were supposedly cut down by my own blade earlier today. It's a somewhat awkward feeling, but still... no denying it: I feel proud about what I have done today. Proud of what I have achieved.

Soon afterwards I notice that I'm not far away from the crypt anymore. As I ride past the field with its earth already turning light brown like the soil of the plaguelands is everywhere to be found, I notice another pedestal directly in its middle and a man in a black robe with ashen-grey hair, standing in front of it looking around the field seemingly aimlessly.

The moment he spots me he waves his hand, indication I ought to draw closer. Having no idea what that he could want from me I throw all caution into the wind and decide to approach, yet only few seconds later I hear him yelling at me. "Now get over here, you moron!"

My inner fury slowly rising I keep my composure for the moment do as he wants of me and ride over to him.

He doesn't mind bursting out what he wants right away. This man could be to my liking in a couple of way... if he would stop insulting me that his. He first blabbers something about a plague cauldron that he is supposed to set up. Then he directs me to get a cauldron for him together with a couple of chains and a bag full of human skulls for the brew itself. But as soon as he's done with his requests he starts shouting insults at me again...

I might consider helping him out on getting the stuff he needs solely because I want to see the effects his plague has on this land with my own eyes, yet I quickly develop a certain grudge against him because he keeps on calling me an idiot, a moron and a fool – how my brain was probably the first thing that rotted away and many other things just like that.

Unfortunately I can't do much but keep my anger for myself... He is probably the stronger one and that by far... at least for now that is. But I'll make him pay for these insults sooner or later. In the end he is only another cold-hearted idiot like most people around me.

Nevertheless I agree to his task and ride onwards, I've got a city to take down after all. And the crypt is near, it's only a few feet away from the field in fact.

Two shades are guarding the entrance, letting no one pass who is not connected to the Scourge. They seem to be of the same as those in the realm of shadows and their hungry looks towards me only enforces this suspicion even more.

They're creeping me out at least a little bit admittedly, just like their many nameless brethren did beyond the borders of this realm. Trying to hurry up passed them I dismiss my unholy mount between the gravestones around the old stone building and head for the stairs leading under the earth.

Yet despite all my efforts the moans of the ghouls that are charging at New Avalon draw my attention for a moment. A small army of disposable, undead creatures is attacking the crusaders just now. It's all so close by and should be easy to take down actually. But still they, the humans even with lost footing, were still able to hold their ground, yet more and more ghouls were coming from the ruins of Havenshire forming an endless stream of undeath charging right at their weakened points.

I wonder how long both sides will be able to keep this up...

I need to get myself involved... Gathering my few senses I turn again and enter the crypt. The stairs take two turns before I come into the vault hidden underneath the earth. I'm greeted by more shades in here hiding in the corners, lurking about for any possible prey, careful not to let the light from the torches shine on them. One of the larger geists of Acherus is hanging from the wall, with his one eye staring at me.

The man known as Baron Rivendare amongst our troops is standing in the back of the room next to his skeletal horse. I saw him in Acherus already a couple of hours ago... So he actually left Mograine's side?

But he isn't the one I'm searching for just now... though I wouldn't have to look too far around. The elf I was here for stands close to him, a goblet filled with a red fluid in his hand, chattering about some nonsense.

These two look much more like nobles that are having an idle chat about what they should eat today rather than commanders in an undead army.

"You took your time, haven't you? But well... how can someone expect promptitude of a plain warrior like yourself." The elf smirks, his goblet waving into my direction. "Yet again, I do have to say... the blood of the crusaders you slew today tastes so sweet, I have no true reason to be mad at you. I'm far too much of an epicure."

He takes a sip from the goblet and before I can interrupt him so he'd come to the point, he already goes ahead and does that by himself.

"But of course you are not here for such chit-chat... I know, Malevolence – New Pride of the Lich King." He overemphasized the name so much it let anger arouse in my soul. "Don't you dare to look at me like that! I could still rip you into pieces in an instance if I so desired, don't forget that! What was it? Because I made fun of you for a moment? Don't be so thin-skinned... You're supposed to be a warrior! Oh my..." The elf takes a step towards me, one hand briefly covering his eyes. "Care for a taste to make up for it?" He holds out the hand with the goblet in it for a short moment, not even bothering to look at me. It was just long enough for me to take a look over its rim, revealing the liquid inside of it might actually be blood. But he's quick to pull his hand back again, a bit offended that I do not respond at all to his 'most generous offer'.

"Just forget about it..." His voice is annoyed and I can't do much but to gaze at him in my sudden bewildered, he hardly had left me any time to react at all, not that I wanted the taste. "You are here for duty and not for talking..., I know." A sigh shows me how much he thinks of me right now. "I want you to attack the heart of the city directly. The authority has to fall no matter what. Kill the major and get me the registry of New Avalon. Spread the fear, show them that nobody is safe... that nobody can escape us... Oh and... Kill as many as you can while you at it. It doesn't matter if they are old or young, strong or weak... soldier or civilian."

I give the elf my usual nod of agreement and leave the crypt afterwards not tallying around any longer. On my way out I come to ask myself if these elves might actually get drunk from blood and if it really is such a good idea to feed them even more...

Anyways I had to carry on and the assignment was simple enough. So I should basically do the same like in Havenshire.

They want me to be their weapon, relentless and without hesitation. That is something I can do.

I take the sword from my back and tighten my grip around its handle, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

'Kill for me, my knight... Offer their worthless souls to Frostmourne. Spill their blood, salt their wounds! By my champion!' The voice called out, sounding happier than ever before.

Blood will be shed soon - there is no doubt to it. May it freely flow down the hills in small rivers and form ponds in the middle of the ruins of Havenshire.

The crusaders only suppress their fear to keep on fighting. And that proves to be their biggest mistake. Every human with a bit common sense would have fled the area, acknowledged the fear but not the Scarlet Crusade..., those poor lunatics.

With a sense of grandeur I make my way up the hill into the city of New Avalon. The guards at the outer walls had already been taken care of by our ghouls. Hundreds of them are roaming the area in search for food, mindless and without any feelings except for pain and agony. Such fine soldiers for our march against the remains of the once so proud Crusade.

Their guards don't even have enough leeway to focus on trying to prevent me from entering the city grounds. There were just too many of our minions charging them already. Two or three of their soldiers are able to come close to me, but they had been too gravely injured to stand longer than maybe a full second only. I cut down every imbecile that dares to approach me like this without looking at them.

It would be pointless to devote too much attention to them. They're nothing but a bother and waste of precious time.

As I blindly cut down the next guard jumping into my way the thought of just skipping that one task for that strange angry guy in the middle of the field grazes my mind. I'm not too keen on carrying a cauldron out of here. It's another task far more fitting for a group of ghouls then me.

But whatever..., I'm almost at the town hall and surely nothing would stop me from my task just at hand. And of course just as these thoughts have expired from my rotting brain, two more guards try to hold me off from venturing any further.

Just like with any other before: all I need for each of them is a single clean strike. I can't really believe that this blade was really supposed to be made of something as simple as hardened Thorium, it cuts so easily through flesh and bones of my enemies alike. Or is this really just due to my own strength I put behind the blow without knowing?

Around the town hall there is a small wall with a big iron gate guarding the inner courtyard. Yet by now this frail means of defense stands widely open and for the taking. Numerous villagers have gathered around the building shouting things at it.

"You are worthless, Quimby!"

"Minions of the Scourge roam the streets of our city unhindered!"

"My whole family was killed, where was the army when we needed it the most!"

Peasants, nothing more... Only the walls listen to them when they don't put up the effort to bring their own pitchforks to the riot. The door of the building is also wide open, and yet they all just stand on the outside asking blind questions and offering idle threats.

And still it is a good sign for us. The Crusaders are slowly losing their faith in this organization; in their religion - at first the villagers and soon also the soldiers will follow one by one if they have to.

'Leave none alive!'

It demands its share of the sacrifice but for now I shall simply enter the building ignoring everybody on its outside. They are far too busy with preparing their little insurrection right now to even notice me at all. The rooms inside this town hall are quite extravagant I have to say. And even though nobody is still in here except for a fat old man who is standing with his back in my direction on the top of a little staircase in the far back of the room.

In the usual way I do not try to hide myself, the armor would give me away sooner or later, not to mention the open bones on my arms and legs. And anyways I am fond of being able to kill any opponent that challenges me in the city of New Avalon. They are all too weak to stand up to my blade...

Kicking away a loose chair that lies thrown over behind the man should give me away for sure.

So I take my sword and plunge it into the back of the old one without a single moment of hesitation. Strange enough that he didn't even move an inch since I entered the building, but it also seems that his body starts slightly swaying forward the moment my sword digs into the flesh.

Then I notice the rope around his neck. The ceiling is rather low and two beams are close to each other in this part of the room. Well done... you cheap'd me out of my kill...

That old bastard took the easy way out of this ... so he would have to face neither the Scourge nor the villagers.

His face is blue, almost violet. So he died due to suffocation, his neck not broken. At least he got the agonizing way of dying. Knowing this heightens my mood if only by a little.

Meanwhile the villagers outside keep on shouting, oblivious to what had happened on the inside many hours ago already.

A real medic would surely still notice, but I decide to cut him down from there and defile the corpse a bit. Cut off a limb here, drive my sword through the body once there. Try to make it look as if he was tortured maybe. This way it should be possible to claim responsibility for the Scourge after all.

After I'm done, I step over the mangled body and look around the bookshelves and tables for the registry.

After skipping through a few books I finally find the one I'm looking for.

On one of the first pages I read the words 'Crimson Dawn' in large bold letters. It sounds strange but I don't think about it too much. I simply don't care. It's not my duty to. If this is of any importance for us somebody will tell me sooner or later what it means. After all..., my next action would be of far more importance for my current task: to go out there and kill as many villagers as possible.

I leave the building with the book bound to my back. I assume it would be safest to keep it where I usually carry my weapon. And if anything fails, it would at least not be drenched in too much blood.

As I step outside the first villagers notice me. They start screaming right away upon my sight. Blood still dripping from the edge of my sword, a terrible premonition unfolds in their minds. I keep walking slowly towards the crowd. Reality unfolds to be even more painful for them... they will all come to know that nobody is safe, not the villagers, not the military ... not even their 'oh-so-great' major.

The moment I raise my blade the peasants panic. Some of them seem paralyzed, others try to flee. Any yet others even want to attack me head on. They run around like headless chickens.

'Mercy is for the weak!'

The sword cuts through the air. It sings its song of death and destruction as it rips apart flesh and bones. The screams of the humans in panic are the orchestra playing in the background.

'More...! I want MORE BLOOD!'

The red fluid is scattered through the air. Some of the elder ones die right in front of me before I can even lay a hand on them. Humans are so fragile, so incapacitated ... and yet people like these are often the ones to cry out loudest and as the first ones. Insulting, cursing, threatening, that's all they can do..., once it gets to the real thing they all fall like flies and hide behind others.

The voice in my head turns to a mere mad laughter.

None of them has any weapons. After a few minutes a guard who is patrolling through the city comes charging at me as he sees what I am doing, mangled corpses spread out in sea of blood. As if one guard is able to stop me...

With a single strike my weapon severs his right arm, never to return to the body. Blood pours out of the open wound, spurts of it hit my face. The man is lying in front of me in his scarlet armor, screaming for help, only adding fuel to my insanity.

I have no intention to end his misery quickly.

A pool of blood forms underneath the wincing body. I pass him, careful not to step onto him. If he survives, he will probably become a hero of the twisted Crusade. Another misconception made by these fanatics. Making cripples to their sacred heroes of battle, even though they only survived because they weren't enough of an opponent for their enemy to even finish them off in an act of mercy.

Like lambs to the slaughter...

Their dream of a 'Scarlet Paradise' was destroyed long before it could even fully unfold.

The streets of the city are almost completely empty by now. The few villagers that are left after the attacks on Havenshire sit in their homes, the windows and doors barricaded as good as they could, shivering in fear of what lurks outside.

And the military..?

It is busy enough with keeping the ghouls out of New Avalon.

Regarding the empty streets I decide to go to the forge after all and have a look if I find a suitable chain. Whatever a 'suitable chain' in this case might be...

Making my mind up quick I take the first one I find and leave the forge, I'm not too keen on searching something for so long for that offensive bastard in the fields. I then hurry over to the large building between the two breaches in the town walls. The shield hanging besides the front door points out that this is supposed to be an inn. I should find at least a small cauldron in their kitchen if they haven't taken it already.

Unfortunately for me, there are only big ones. I curse loudly once, something only the ghouls or maybe my king might here and take one of them. It's heavier than it looks at the first glance. I actually drag it behind me instead of carrying it for most of the way.

The few remaining guards at the gate are again far too caught up handling the attacking ghouls. That way I can easily slip through. Makes you wonder if by me just walking in and out of the city like that affects the moral of the soldiers fighting there.

I drag the cauldron over to the fields of Havenshire, the chains lying inside it.

The necromancer looks at me and what I have to bring to him.

"You dumb bastard! You forgot the skulls for the brew! You're as useless as a foul, rotten ghoul!"

Those were his bright words for me as I returned, but I wouldn't play along this time... I turn around and leave him behind me, shouting and yelling something at me how worthless I am in his eyes.

I feel how rage consumes me. Taking the sword from my back, I turn again and approach the man.

"What do you still want here, useless fool? Go back out there and collect the skulls I need!"

I instead only hold my hand forth and concentrate a few moments. Soon I hear the digging sound I waited for and a ghoul climbs out of the earth.

"I LIKE GLITTER!" He utters upon standing up straight, shaking and trembling, the bright red emblem of the crusade still on the few rags he has left. This is the first undead minion I have called forth. It's not especially beautiful but would do.

I grab the last tuft of hair on the head of the ghoul and drag him to the cauldron as I look at the necromancer.

"You know what this is?" I ask him with an angry, provoking voice.

The man takes a short look over his shoulder to the fortress of Acherus but remains silent.

"THAT is a ghoul created from a warrior of the Scarlet Crusade..."

With a swift strike of my blade the head of the ghoul is cut off into the cauldron. Its body tumbles backwards and falls over still twitching.

"There you go. One skull of a Crusader... MAKE THE OTHER ONES YOURSELF!" I bellow back at him.

Not fully conscious of what I had just done I turn around and leave the old man standing there without another word. I'm still furious as I enter the crypt. And if that elf should say one single word to provoke me, I'm sure I will try to slice him up like any crusader that would be worth my time.

To my surprise the elf reacts totally different to what I have expected. He seems to be... actually friendly in a kind of way.

"What a pleasant surprise. You are back already..." I show him the registry, eagerly awaiting his first misstep. "Give it to me!" The elf demands. "This is a fairly important piece of information, you know?" He says as he skips through the pages. "Birth as well as death rate of the cities and villages Havenshire, New Avalon and Tyr's Hand and far more important: logistics." Keleseth takes a mouthful of what I assume is blood from the goblet standing on the table. "Now let us find out where they are heading to..." The elf is staring at a page with coordinates and mumbles something indefinable. "They... are heading for Northrend? Which fool would deliver his people directly into the heart of the frozen wastes?"

Keleseth thinks for a second and then reads aloud another two more words written onto the page.

"Crimson Dawn"


	37. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 7

_Chapter 7: _

"Sheesh..., now I have to go and do all the dirty work on my own again. Snobby undead elves..." I mumble to myself as I stray through the streets of New Avalon not as idly as one might suspect but quite contrary to that on the search for more people to question.

Why can't they just send a group of geists to up one of the Crusaders after the other just as we need them? Just bring one or two to the crypt and torture them there till they tell us what they know. Killing their beaten husks afterwards should be far easier than investing all of this effort, but no.

Not that I wouldn't enjoy it, but I always get these menial tasks to fulfill or at least run after. Kill things here, kill things there.

But well, who am I to judge all of it... Sure, it would be more ... interesting to be on a big assignment for once, yet I guess the master tells everybody what they should order me to do for a reason. It is all a grand scheme of things I don't have to understand.

So, keeping that in mind, now I stand here waiting for another righteous and overzealous member of the Crusade that I can forcefully tear to the forge and torture there with the two iron spikes, then nicely heated up, that are currently fixed to my belt.

Keleseth was the one who gave them to me still inside the crypt. He called them his 'persuaders' with a certain kind of twisted affection and indeed what a lovely name for two spikes made of solid metal that were built to torture humans and maybe even bring burning death. I would definitely be able to reach the same effect with the tip of my blade, yet the elf wanted me to be careful. The victim should live as long as possible and not die without a point due to loss of blood.

After a while of waiting and searching I see a guard patrolling between the couple of buildings scattered out in this bleak image of a town.

I don't try to sneak up on him but still, I might as well approach him from behind.

A hit with the flat side of my blade straight to the back of his head sends him to the ground. He shouldn't be completely unconscious for long, but he should feel dizzy and blurry long enough so that he won't be able to struggle too much until he's safely tied down.

I grab him by the collar of his armor. It's only made of tanned leather nevertheless he is wearing a shield and a sword. Both of them not anywhere near the high quality equipment we took of the first corpses we revived today. It seems their supplies are running thin already. Too many died in the field and decided to take their armor with them to the enemy...

The floor of the forge is already blood-stained from the Crusaders before. Their bodies now rest behind the building, piled up without too much care, waiting for our necromancers to show up and give them a place amongst us. The corpses are all covered with burns, no wounds too great to die from immediately. I gave it my best and eagerly tried every body part at least once – that way I'd get a hold of how effective it would be on which part. Of course I made some differences between men and women, but the number of male members is definitely higher rendering these thoughts pretty much irrelevant. Yet again, I may be ruthless... but I still have my fair share of personal honor I intend on keeping, at least concerning these matters. Besides ... I wouldn't end up foolish enough sparing them just because of their gender, neither does death.

Anyways I put the Crusader I have with in chains for a start-up.

The timing is down just like with those before: whilst the spikes heat up in the forge, the young man slowly seems to wake up again.

I already wonder what he might try to tell me, how he would bargain for his pitiful little life. The Crusaders seem to be a stubborn folk. Some of them tried to threaten me, told me stories about me hanging from the gallows soon, not that it would matter anymore. Others almost begged for the sweet kiss of death, announced that they would tell me nothing and I would have to kill them. Idiot... That one really expected me to kill him on the spot just as he told me to. But I better idea. I set an example... His screams were loud enough to be heard up in the fortress on the hill.

Yet the most exhausting ones by far were those that tried to mock me. One even tried to tell me that their own Grand Inquisitor, called Isillien, was more fearsome than I. Why do these people tend to make their gravest mistakes in the seconds right before their inevitable death? I took his sight away first as a present of my graciousness. Keeping completely quiet on my part, I left him the chance to imagine that Isillien was the one killing him instead of me, if that was the person who he truly had feared most in his life.

But this time, everything seems to be a little bit different. It turns out that I have found me a weak one for a change. I stare at him with my ice-blue eyes for a moment to get things going. This already builds up a sufficient amount of pressure in his heart. And indeed I manage to break him even before anything had happened. I did not bother taking off his helmet. The limit sight he had like this made it only worse for him. Clearly he's still rather young, not too devoted to the Scarlet Crusade at a whole, the tabard of their guard he's wearing with at least some pride lost forever. At least it lets me hope that he might know something useful.

Without a word I get up and go over to the forge, checking on my two little tools. His eyes follow every movement I make, his breathing uneasy, right now he is too scared to actually scream though. The rattling I hear is a good sign. He tries his best and struggles to get out of the chain but ultimately it's useless.

The panic he feels is clearly visible in his eyes as I take the two hot irons freshly out of the fire and smash their tips together sending a sole spark flying through the air.

No doubt, he has to be still rather young and a bit daft too.

I slowly approach him again, putting down one of the 'persuaders' on a large anvil next to the boys right, it's heated end pointing in his direction. It lies there on about eye-level. This surely will be intimidating enough for this brat. And even if not, what's there to lose for me?

My sword is leaning at the wall on the other side of the room, far away but still clearly in his sight. A pool of curdled blood has formed on the floor where the tip of the blade is standing, all of hit just another instrument of my carefully planned terror.

I crouch down next to him and grab his throat with my left hand. Not wanting to squeeze too tightly I watch my strength - not that I kill him or he faints on me again. I found that out the hard way a couple of try's earlier...

I then hover the hot iron in front of his eyes, only centimeters from his face. He immediately closes them and tries to tilt his head back as far as he could yet my grip and the wall stop his efforts abruptly. The heat alone should hurt at least somewhat already.

He again tries to scream but the panic will not let him. He has a lump in his throat, probably more figuratively than anybody would imagine. I expect him to throw up sooner or later due to the sole pressure. But before any of that would happen, I start my questioning. I had remained quiet long enough up until now.

"Tell me about the 'Crimson Dawn' and I will have the mercy to end your miserable existence quickly. Tell me not and you will experience a world of pain!"

I let loose of his neck and take a hold of his right arm, his eyes wide open as I draw closer to his skin with the 'persuader'.

He utters a few things like "No, please don't..." or "Just stop, please!" as I pretend he is begging too quietly to be heard by me. As the hot metal touches his skin his whole body starts shivering under the sensation of melting flesh. He screams out loud once, at least that should offer a bit of a relief for him. Following only his natural reactions he tries to pull his arm back as good as he can and with all the force he is able to muster, but the chain hinders him to do so. For me the sight a little bit different though. With interest I watch how the upper layers of his skin are melting, molding into something new, blood evaporates as it touches the iron, producing the quiet hissing sound I enjoyed for the last hour. Tears come to the eyes of the young crusader. He is the first of them to cry. All of the other ones just sat there with their eyes closed. Most of them screamed as well, other bit off parts of their own tongue but none ever shed even only a single tear. In an awkward way one could even call it touching the way how he is sitting there fearful in disbelieve of the truth unfolding around him.

Being completely helpless - that is what humanity should really learn to fear the most. Sadly this boy would not live through this day to tell his saddening story to anybody. To tell how it felt and to live his life scarred from these few moments, the atrocities of his and our war.

I turn the metal on his skin letting it roll down his arm to an unburned spot. The short hair underneath it is burned away so quickly nothing remains of it. For a second I lift it off the arm and repeat what I want to know of him.

It takes him a moment to focus again and I am willing to let it pass, to let the adrenalin in his body ease the pain for at least a short period of time. I'm already sure about getting something out of him, but it wouldn't be easy. It would hold hardships none of those before him offered me. But instead I find myself in a position where I have to be careful so that the words which I wanted to hear are not drowned in his own salty tears.

He swallows hard and takes a deep breath.

It seems he wants to tell me something.

The first words he is saying are indefinable, but as I come closer with the hot iron again, he swallows another time and begs me to stop. He says he will tell me everything that he knows.

"We... we have only been told that the-the 'Crimson Dawn' is an awakening. You see, the Light speaks to the High General. It is the Light!" He has trouble suppressing further tears. "The Light that guides us! The movement was set in motion long before you came... We... we only do as we are told. It is what must be done..." His breathing is uneasy, the pain coming back again. Makes me even fear that he might die due to a weak heart... "I don't know too much about it..." His voice growing faint, "The High General chooses who may go and who must stay behind. There's nothing else! You have to believe me!"

What is that brat trying to tell me? It sounds like a bunch of lies to me, nothing more – nothing less... but still this... boy... is too young to make things up like this when suffering from such amounts of pain!

I'm sure of it and neither the voice is contradicting my evaluation.

I press the hot iron again against the skin of his arm again just to be sure.

"Everything you tell are lies!" I yell at him, my ice-blue eyes gazing merciless at his writhing body.

"PLEASE! STOP! ... A courier will come here soon... from Hearthglen! He..." His words suddenly die off. They just drop away into nothingness. I take the hot iron off his arm and take a closer look at him. He couldn't have died already, I hardly did anything to him, or did he? Did he just faint maybe?

Either way there seems nothing to be gained here anymore so I get up to my feet again. At least two things are for sure now. First and most important of all, I have something that I can tell the elf in the crypt, and secondly, the boy is unconscious.

I don't think that I would get too much more information out of him now, no matter how much torture I apply. So I might as well kill him on the spot.

Casually I get the blade from the other side of the room. Finally I could go back to the elf and leave this place behind again. Maybe I'll get a more interesting assignment next time I figure.

I drive the sword through the heart of the young man without a moment's hesitation. I don't care if the crusade or our necromancers find his dead body still tied up like this or with the other corpses behind the forge when they get here.

After all, he's just another Crusader.


	38. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 8

_Chapter 8: _

"Interesting indeed..." The elf states quietly. "Although the few things you can tell me are almost completely worthless for us as it is now. Too much pointless ramblings and less of actual information..."

He takes a sip from his beloved golden goblet, making me wonder how often that thing gets refilled each and every day. Then again... there should be no lack for the beverage he so desires.

"Well then, I already sent Bloodbane and his other two mindless peons out to investigate this subject on their own after giving you your last order. And so the master told me that they took the tavern behind the apple plant as a base of operation. Better than nothing I assume." He turns to the entrance of the crypt, clearly showing me to get lost too. "Head over there and tell them what you have found out. Then help them with the research on their end and maybe something will come off this useless blabbering."

The elf smirks as I briefly bow and accept his task.

I'm not comfortable with being under Bloodbane's command, but well..., it won't be for long; at least I hope so.

Back on the surface I hear them again, the screams of humans dying in agony, a serenade of the crimson demise. Our ghouls are able to push the defense line of the Scarlet Crusade back further and further as it grows thinner by the hour. Some of our troops have already attacked civilians inside their homes. Without doubt everything is going beyond successful.

We are making good progress today, as nightfall draws closer so does the end of the Scarlet Crusade and with it the ultimate bloodshed. By now it's not too difficult to get through New Avalon anymore even on my own. The military forces are either in the fortress upon the hill or right at the walls fighting the never ending stream of ghouls heading for them. All in all nobody bothers me on my little trip except for a few lone crusaders that are still trying to recapture the inn where the small outpost was set up by Bloodbane, Deathweaver and Thassarian not too long ago.

Such fools, still running blindfolded into their own death. Is it pride or are they just too stubborn to notice how nothing would ever come of this?

I cut down another two that come charging at me as I make my way to the death knights I'm supposed to catch up to. Those humans... they're worse than the peskiest of our ghouls, if everyone would be like this, they wouldn't have survived a single century before becoming extinct.

Their will to fight might be admirable for the fool, yet the way how they act now? It's a different story.

'Leave none alive!' My king calls out to me over the battlefield as I venture into the inn.

Four lesser death knights are guarding the lower floor. As I approach one of them, he just points to the stairs. Seems they have been informed of my arrival. As I turn to the upper floor the cold eyes of Orbaz Bloodbane are already staring at me in a strange mixture of delight and hateful spite.

"You took your time..." He sounds a bit angry, though the monotone sound of his voice. Thassarian lifts his hand to greet me as I reach the end of the stairs. Only one completely missing is Deathweaver, where might he be?

I open my mouth to speak to Bloodbane, but he interrupts me before I could say even a single word.

"We have no idea when or where this courier will arrive. None of the humans here knew anything." Bloodbane turns his head to Thassarian for a short gaze. "Yet the last one told us at least something useful. Inside the fortress there is a schedule of all the patrol routes. Tear the building apart – I don't care how you get it! All that matters is that we need this document!"

His voice was still rather calm at first but now he falls into a streak of rage, his bloodlust almost catching on to me.

Orbaz might be a bit stronger than me at the moment, but I would not hesitate to draw my blade if he ever should attack me for whatever reason. And he would certainly never leave that fight unscarred... I'm sure he knows it even if he might hate me the more just because he's sees as much. But I'm not that much different... I can't stand being under his command. After all... we are almost equal...

Thassarian puts his hand on my shoulder knowing only too well what is going in the minds of two just about now. Before I turned to him, I expected something a warning from his frail peace seeking heart but instead I was faced by something else. I found myself staring into his worried eyes leaving me to question what had happened prior to my arrival.

"Getting here was not that easy as you might think." Thassarian begins to speak. "A larger number of Crusaders were gathering in this tavern to launch a counter attack at us... Luckily we took by surprise just as much as they did with us. We lost Koltira in the fight... I have no idea whether he ended up dead or not. After they had brought him down, they dragged him into their hold up on the hill. I'll be damned if we don't search for him!"

That elf is just as useless as Thassarian is a fool for losing his weapon on the battlefield!

Orbaz who had slowly calmed down again, now turned back to us.

"Why do you care Thassarian? His weakness is what led to his capture. Only the strong should survive and you know it. Not to mention..." Thassarian interrupts him with a sudden gesture.

"What, Orbaz? That he's a blood elf?" He leads his gaze out of the window for a moment. "In life we were hated enemies - this is true... But in death...We are all the children of the damned - the bastard sons and daughters of the Scourge." He swallows. "In death we are brothers."

Orbaz only shakes his head in response.

"To hell with you Thassarian!"

Feels strange to admit it but this one time, I'd have to agree with Bloodbane. But enough of it..., I have what I came here for and thus I leave the two of them before they could start arguing again.

I have no intention of saving Koltira or getting pulled into this dispute, but I make up my mind to have at least a look whether he is dead or still alive. If the master had chosen him to be part of our then he surely had a reason for doing so.

I don't meet even a single guard as I make my way to the Scarlet Hold on the hill. It seems there are fewer soldiers left than I had expected, or they have finally begun moving on their own, maybe leaving behind what was lost or mobilizing even for that one final assault. On the other hand, I can't really imagine them to have enough troops left to start a counter attack on us.

The building seems to be rather empty on the inside too after enter the broad open doorway.

Have we already won this war?

'Victory is near!' The voice in my head whispers to me full of pride.

I take a closer look into each room on the lower floor without finding anything. I even tear out every single book from the shelves.

Nothing to find down here I then take the staircase to the upper level and still ... nobody to be found. I'm starting to have a bad feeling about this. By now I'm rightfully expecting an attack. No..., rather I actually want them to launch a sneak attack on me – just to push away the silent tension. But nothing... It all stays quiet and lifeless.

Not many place left to search I follow the hallway and boldly enter the large room where I would expect the military head of the Scarlet Crusade. What the hell is going on here? Why is nobody here? They left everything unguarded. The schedule of their patrols is lying on the large wooden table in the back of the room without any defense. Seeing no traps attached to it I grab it and want to head out again.

On my way the memory of Koltira supposedly to be imprisoned here somewhere strikes my mind off guard. I had actually already forgotten about him for the first time.

After taking a turn on the lower floor I pass by a staircase leading into the basement of the fortress. I guess I could as well take a look down there once I'm here already.

The room I find is barely lit, but I can clearly make out what this room is supposed to be - a torture chamber. It's only a rough one but I take it it's enough to be efficient, an iron maiden stands directly in front of me as I enter the room. Three racks are next to each other in the back, an alchemical laboratory in their middle. I don't bother too much with it but just take a wild guess what they have brewing in here.

To my surprise I see somebody lying on one of the torture tables. And it's only as I draw closer that I recognize Koltira. He seems to be merely unconscious, alive for what it's worth being called that as an undead.

And again there is not even one single person down here keeping guard over him. Something about this empty building is disturbing, creeping me out even and most worrisome of all: it has this sense of vile foreshadowing.

With a sigh I force myself away from these thoughts of imminent danger and approach the elf with a sigh. It's not too difficult to wake him up after I cut his bonds.

His ice-blue eyes look at me with delightful despair and surprise at the same time. "Why... why are you here?" He sits up straight as he questions my whereabouts. "Don't tell me that Thassarian...?" I nod before he could finish his sentence. "That idiot! Now you are here too, damn him... It was my own fault I got caught."

Whilst the elf starts to talk to himself, I just wonder what could be so bad about the present situation, after all the building is completely empty and he had been out cold for a while.

"If we survive and get out of here, tell Thassarian that they keep their key prisoners near their chapel. Maybe he'll send you there too so you can play hero again."

Koltira gets up with a not very believable moan. "Damn that Crusade. I think they left me with some broken ribs." He touches his chest and the pain he simulates makes him grimace.

He gets off the rack and staggers to a footlocker that is close by. "They put my armor and runeblade in here. I saw it with my own eyes..." Swiftly Koltira puts his equipment back on and takes the axe into his hand.

"What is this all about? Acolytes! Tie them up and make them ready for questioning!"

Two hooded figures come running down the stairs out of nowhere.

"Damn it! That was the voice of High Inquisitor Valroth."

Koltira seems terribly worried, but the only thing I can think of is that finally something is happening around here. I could have some fun after all... I had to wait long enough and last though more than enough pressure building up on me.

I jump at the first of the acolytes with the brute force I muster up for any opponent. My sword cuts through his body with ease, scattering his blood throughout the room. Now it really looks like a torture chamber down here...

"I'm not of much use now..." Koltira complains behind me, hardly able to stand on his own. "But I'll hold up an anti-magical barrier. Stand inside it and their spells will be as good as useless."

Only a second later a large purple cupola appears over the elf. Impressive, I have to admit. If he's no use for something else, than maybe this is hidden talent.

Still a bit hesitant I step into it and suddenly every sound from the outside seems damped for me, it also grows blurry. I'm curious if it will really be as effective as Koltira has announced.

Meanwhile the acolytes came charging down the stairs in a sheer endless stream. I have no idea where they all are coming from, only minutes ago the whole upper floors had been completely empty! But no that it mattered too much, they hardly achieved anything except for being so nice and prove Koltira right on his shield. It pains me to admit, how the spells they use vanish almost completely upon hitting the barrier. I felt a slight sting now and then, but there is nothing left except for that.

"The Crusade will purge your kind from this world!" The supposed High Inquisitor yells from upstairs as more and more acolytes and monks come flooding down the stairs only to die to my blade. Those foolish enough to come close to the barrier are cut down by my sword instantly. The other, smarter ones become victims of my shadow bolts soon after.

Bodies cover the floor almost completely after maybe a minute or two. What a waste of precious time. This turns out to be not even half as fun as I had hoped for.

'Kill! Kill for me! Offer their souls to Frostmourne...' The voice in my head cries out in the meantime, blood of the fallen Crusaders running into a drain in the middle of the room.

"I shall deal with you personally if I must! The Light will purge you!"

An old man comes down the staircase. His robe is white with bright red and golden ornaments on it.

"Perish from this world!" He yells at us as good as he could.

I look at the old man from the inside of the anti-magic barrier and can't hold back my laugh. What a pitiful foo...

A smite spell hits me right this moment, sending me flying through the room and out of the barrier. I hit the wall between two of the racks hard and fall to the floor. On impact I hear a couple of my bones crumble and even despite my numbed senses it still hurts quite a bit. For a moment the world around me is spinning, but I'm able to focus again faster than he had anticipated. But I'm still staggering as I get to my feet. The hit completely ruined my balance, that's for sure.

What the hell? That spell was that strong even while under the barrier?

The High Inquisitor leaves me no time to recover at all. A similar spell hits me again. I'm pushed against the wall behind me hard. I don't know if the strange sound I hear is my armor being deformed from the impact or my bones being grinded into dust.

'Only the strong ones will be my champions. Only the strong ones will survive!' The voice in my head whispers with a certain spite.

I will be strong, strong enough to become your champion, my king. I will survive!

Rage is flooding my mind and erasing everything that held me down so far. From one second to the other everything is clear again.

I get to my feet and dash at the old geezer but I'm hit by another smite on the way sending me again flying towards the wall. With all the strength I have left in me I throw my sword at the High Inquisitor like a harpoon whilst I'm still in mid-air.

I crash directly into the alchemical lab the moment I hear the agonized scream of the old man.

Koltira looks at me frightened the moment I get up again as if nothing had happened.

I then slowly walk to Valroth. Still not completely dead I snuff out the little life that is left in him once and for all by pulling out my sword and cutting off his head with all the pleasure this false revenge offers me. I want to hand the head to Koltira afterwards, but he doesn't want it.

"Take it to Thassarian. Vengeance will sooth his savage soul." He replies to my offering.

I will do as he wishes, this one single time.


	39. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 9

_Chapter 9: _

Returning to Thassarian proved to be not too difficult, just as I had expected... I probably cut down most of the poor fool that were still inside of this so-called town down in that basement.

It was only natural to expected it and just like that I hardly met any Crusaders on my way through New Avalon. Yet something still strikes me as strange about the situation. I can't really name it at the moment but it keeps bothering me, makes me restless. The Crusade may have suffered severe losses but then again some of their warriors are still fighting our troops near the city walls. So they didn't fully retreat yet and those few that are still standing? Well... as I said... they are still standing and exactly that is the problem we have.

I hand over the severed head of the High Inquisitor to Thassarian without any comment on my part.

"I'll feed this bastard's head to the ghouls!" His eyes narrowed down as he looks at it, showing for brief moment the rage that inhabits even him from time to time. After holding it for maybe a second too long he turns around and throws it into the room behind us. "Now it's time for payback." An unlikely grim smile comes to his face. "Commander Plaguefist, a recently promoted death knight and a unit of initiates were sent to the Chapel of the Crimson Flame on the hill to the west. If Koltira was right then Plaguefist should have gotten all of them out of there." He pauses for a short moment. "You can still catch up to them. If you get going right now that is." I nod in response and off I am again.

But before I leave I turn to Bloodbane and give him the book with the schedules I collected inside the poorly guarded fort. A few drops of blood from the severed head now decorate the outside of the folio with a random pattern. Yet another unlikely facial expression presents itself to me as his face lightens up. This is the first time I ever see a reaction like this from him and despite knowing only full well that I had stood from my sleep only few hours ago, it feels like a life-time.

"I'll go through this... meanwhile do whatever Thassarian told you. Just get going and don't bother me any further..." The way he talks to me is also a bit different than usual, but closer to his normal self. Not that would be up to me to care about it.

Now finally set loose again I take the stairs to the lower floor and leave the inn immediately. This apple plant looks so peaceful, so undisturbed and still the dead bodies and the blood underneath the trees bear remembrance of the fights that occurred less than a few hours ago. I would have expected those strange elves aren't around here by now, but no... seems they keep their fair distance to place of brute force. Nevertheless I'm sure they would have loved it, the scent of freshly spilled blood everywhere. Strong enough so even I can smell it right now.

The chapel I'm aiming for is located directly off to the west of the inn on a small, almost unnoticeable hill. A rather long, completely wooden building can be seen to its right.

I spot the death knights under the command of Plaguefist or whatever his name was early as they are eagerly trying to grasp the real meaning behind the name of the chapel - 'of the Crimson Flame'. The whole building is brightly lit on fire as I reach them. The initiates are cheering while they throw more torches at the chapel, flames blazing high up into the air.

The bodies of dead priests litter the ground all around the path I follow. They must feel mighty proud of themselves... arrogant worms.

I have no idea what this Plaguefist-guy had achieved for the Scourge in the past day, but he had already received a full set of armor as a gift, as well as a special weapon I had seen none of before on the battle field. The skull on his chest has two large ember colored eyes. What an impressive sight indeed. Makes me want my own...

His corpus also seems to have been preserved well until he was reanimated. In life he was a human with short black hair and a muscular body and by the looks of it, nothing much changed about that. Still I am sure he would be no match for me if it came to a fight.

"So you are Malevolence... You don't look as strong as everybody says?" Why is that guy provoking me already? Doesn't he know any better? More thoughts come running through my mind, growing in intensity and violence the more I feel the anger rising within me.

"Well... the Crusaders here at the Chapel were no match for us..., only made of flesh and bones." A short laughter is heard from an initiate close by. They really are feeling great for tearing this church apart. Pathetic... such weaklings!

I take the moment to tell Plaguefist about what I got to know from Koltira.

"We didn't find any of our brothers here, if you are talking about that. But we did stumble on something interesting." His face turns into a vile smile. "After we had torn the chapel apart we headed for the prison house over there." He points at the long building. Cages are standing in front of it, as well as two gallows. A group of six pillories flank their side. Everything perfectly prepared for group executions in front of a public audience. "We didn't expect too much from these maggots but it seems they tried to impress us on that part. The Crusade's been real busy, you know? The whole building over there is full of Argent Dawn prisoners and heretics. Although most of them were already dead as we got here, a couple of them are still breathing." He takes a short look over his shoulders to the cheering initiates still throwing burning torches at the chapel. I guess they won't ever get tired of doing this. Plaguefist shakes his head with a sigh and turns back to me. At least they're doing what they've been told.

"Actually I was about to go back in there and execute the rest of them personally, but now that you are here, I think you should have the honour of doing so. Our master would want it that way. In particular... there is one prisoner inside those walls that should be lots of fun for you - a real feisty human woman. She's a member of the Kirin Tor according to the robes she is wearing. She cannot have been here for too long before we had arrived, there's still too much fire left in her."

I heard everything I needed to know and turn away from Plaguefist directly after he had finished his last sentence to slowly approach the building. I hear how he starts complaining behind my back, something about me not even thanking him or whatever. I simply stop listening.

My hand reaching for the hilt of my sword, I know want to do this quickly. There are more than enough things of more importance we have to address to until the sun is allowed to set this day.

I open the light wooden door to enter. As my eyes adjust to the rather sparse lighting inside I can make out up to eight or nine people in here. All of them are sitting or kneeling on the floor; some injured others just shivering due to fear of what might happen to them.

All of them already knew fully well that they would never leave this building alive again - the Crusade apparently was pretty efficient concerning breaking them beforehand. Still it is somewhat astonishing that none of them lies in chains. Their will to escape must have been taken away from them completely. Calling them still alive in my head feels strange, but whatever... I'm here to end their existence with a little bit of torment and terror.

A human sitting directly in the corner opposing the entrance is raising his head to gaze up to my face. His eyes are without any light, blank almost completely lifeless already.

It's a shame that I would do most of them a favor actually by killing them. They'd surely die far too swiftly as the black tabard with the white sun of the Argent Dawn won't be too much of a protection from my sword.

I let the tip of my sword scratch along the floor as I come closer to the man. It's an almost lustful sound as me and my blade are both craving the freshly spilled red liquid. With a swift movement I pull my weapon up over my head slicing the frail body of the man open from the waist up to the right shoulder.

A shallow agonized scream comes from him before he falls over into the puddle of his own blood. It shouldn't take long for him to die... if he's dead already.

'Show no mercy.' My master whispers to me as the first drops had been set free from their veins.

The timber floor creaks under my feet with every step I take. The armor I'm wearing seems to be a lot heavier than I would have suspected.

A female nightelf to my right bursts into tears as she sees what I did to that human. Maybe they knew each other? Maybe even for a longer time?

"Don't worry, you'll be reunited soon." I say in a low voice upon my silent speculations as I raise my sword over my head yet again, this time standing in front of her. I hear a whir as the sword cuts through the air and loud cracking as it reaches the body of the elf. Blood spatters are flying everywhere, some prisoners are covered by them; one bloodelf even collapses in fear.

"Only the strong will survive." This time it's my own voice whispering to me. "But none of you is strong..."

With two more swift strikes I end the life of another two, a dwarf and a second human. By then the next person has fainted, again a bloodelf. They just are not made to be fighters it appears to me. A waste of space if you capture them, really... They're not even worth a fracture of my attention. And besides, there's nothing to gain for me from killing worms that have fallen unconscious.

Seconds later I stand before a member of the Forsaken. He too has none of the strong glow left in his eyes. I wonder what he is thinking for a moment. If he might be regretting his decision to fight against the Lich King, or maybe if he had already accepted his demise. Who knows..? I for my part am not going to ask him.

Seconds later his head is now rolling at his feet. I guess no-one will never find out what went on in his mind during these last minutes.

There is also one orc in the room, I hadn't noticed up until now. What a strange sight he proves to be, far more frightened and pathetic than any prisoner before. He is sitting in the corner that is furthest from the entrance, shivering, almost crying. That can't be an orc... maybe he's just a bulky human that painted himself green I imagine; although I can't really find a reason why someone would do such a thing.

It is as I approach him, that I hear her for the very first time.

A human with a dark tan, short black hair and bright green eyes, the robe of the Kirin Tor she's wearing is fitting her slim body perfectly. So she's the one that is supposed to be feisty? She only looks scared to me. She is crouching down next to one of the beds, trying to be as small as possible. You can't even see her when entering the room.

Most notable about her: She wouldn't shut up. She's mumbling the whole time, panicking big time I presume.

But for now I should focus on finishing the orc off before her. I already made up my mind that she would be the next one as I head past her.

With a strong thrust the blade pierces the body of the green-skin as well as the wooden wall behind him, letting his blood run down on the in- as well as the outside of the building. It turns out a tad more difficult than expected to get the jagged blade out of the wooden wall, but in the end the wall proves the weaker. Wood loudly breaks as I free the blade leaving splinters falling into the corner together with the dead orc's body.

Then I return to the woman. She has my full attention as I raise my sword over my head. In fear she looks at me once. It is only for a second that her emerald eyes meet mine.

I... I don't know why, but I can't hit her.

Slowly I lower my weapon again.

All I can see in her eyes is despair, a feeling that lives and thrives on the battlefield but this had never affected me before. So why did it matter this time? My head is aching and the world starts spinning around me all of a sudden. What is happening here?

"Why me... why?" She starts mumbling again after turning her gaze away from me. And I...? I'm paralyzed on the spot leaving me with nothing else I could do except for listening to it. "Where are you?" She asks the darkened room around her filled only with death. "All I wanted was to find you!" Tears begin slowly flowing from her eyes. I feel sad for her. I'm touched by the sight. What is this all about?

"Corren, Marc... where are you? Where have you gone?" As I hear the names I the grip on my weapon loosens dropping the sword. It hits the ground making a loud metallic noise as I'm still unable to move. I've got no idea what is happening to me...

"What's going on in there?" Plaguefist yells from the outside, his voice giving away that he is alarmed.

"Why did I ever leave you, Corren..." The young woman keeps on talking to herself.

I hear the sound of his armor as he approaches the building with a fast pace. I want to pick up my sword again, but the sight of her just makes me unable to do it.

"Why did we ever part?" She wants to know. It feels like I should answer, but no.

Plaguefist enters the building with strong steps. His eyes wander from dead body to dead body until he spots me kneeling in front of her.

"What's the matter?" He asks the moment he sees me and my weapon as it lies on the ground and not in my dead hands. The young woman and two other prisoners are still alive, a human and a male troll.

"Don't tell me you started having regrets...?" His voice is annoyed and spiteful. "So I guess you're not any better than the normal initiates then? Worthless as most underlings..." He takes his own sword and comes closer to me.

"Where are you..., Cor..." Plaguefist stabs the young woman without a single moment of hesitation.

"See? It's as easy as this." He pulls the sword out of her and the body now drops lifeless to the floor.

I'm staring at the corpse unable of saying a single word to him in response.

Plaguefist looks down at me, raises an eyebrow and walks off to kill the other two prisoners as well.

"I should behead you right now, but you? You're not even worth the dent in my blade... Weakling..." He says as he leaves the building. His words are too far away for me, echoing in a strange distorted fashion to be picked up.

Instead I still look at her lying there on the floor in her robe that slowly is soaking full of blood.

I drop down to my knees letting out a short scream.

I actually want to cry.

I know her name...

"K..., K..., Keira..." I stutter while saying it out loud for the first time as I'm looking at her.

What have I done?

Why didn't I do anything? Why did this happen? Why did you foolish girl search for Corren and me.

Everything she said seems clear to me for a short moment, before it slowly drifts away again.

I want to curse this world, annihilate the Crusade for taking her as a prisoner and kill Plaguefist for doing this to her.

And now that her murder walks away, I hear how the new orders to the initiate death knights are given outside. Only a few moments later something hits the roof of the building.

I can't really care for my surrounding too much, but...

Reaching out with my hand for her dead body, I want to cry... but I can't...

I simply can't.

Flames begin slowly eating their way through the ceiling and the outer walls of this wooden shelter.

As I look at her I see that she is wearing a signet ring of the Kirin Tor. Carefully I slide it off her finger. I also take the small bag I noticed she had tied to her belt. I hurry to get is loose and take it with me.

Grabbing my sword I'm finally able get back to my feet again. I'm still staggering so much that I have to use the weapon as a support, but it will do to not get consumed by the flames.

On the outside of the building I open the bag and drop the ring inside it. I can feel three more things turning inside it, two of them pointy and crooked and the third thin and smooth. I cannot say why but I don't want to have a look into it, at least not for now.

Outside I find myself in solitude, everybody else gone already. Taking the few minutes I turn and watch as the flames devour the building as well as the bodies inside of it.

As Plaguefist and his little group of followers had already left the area again I can only say how lucky they are.

I stare at the fire for a while as it eats its way through the building and onto the very earth.

Why did I remember that woman? How could I know the names she mumbled so idly to herself?

All these memories suddenly appear like ghosts haunting me from my distant past.

I fasten the little bag to my own belt with a tight knot.

Who am I?


	40. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 10

_Chapter 10: _

Blind sorrow and despair quickly turned back on me and into an emotion I was more adept at using for my own - hatred.

Pushing aside all thoughts about this Keira that were so suddenly eruption from all around me I found myself trapped in a corner, no means of escaping to be found and still it was easier than coping with what had happened only so few minutes ago.

The rage that had built up in me alongside found a new target only a short time later. I focused all of it in its entirety on the Scarlet Crusade again. They would pay for what they had done to me... to...

Right now I can't tell what will happen should they give me any more tasks involving the Crusade. The scouting was over for me... the only thing I'm interested in doing is killing. To annihilate them - every single one up to the very last!

I already know how I would get my revenge on Plaguefist sooner or later. The irritating thing at thirst was that the master himself had promised me the vengeance I sought. He probably said it to soothe my anger. But I guess it wouldn't matter if I fed the soul of a Crusader to Frostmourne or the wretched being of Plaguefist, surely both would be to its liking.

From these moments on I heard how my master and king was coming closer to me. I noticed how he was beside me almost all the time, constantly whispering into my ears... but I? I turned away.

I did not listen to him anymore.

Only occasionally a single word slips through that I can clearly understand which leaves me unsure about a lot of things... I don't know if he meant vengeance by killing Plaguefist or just another ambush on the Scarlet Crusade.

But soon I again stopped questioning what revolved around me unseen. All that matters is the present and the revenge I am longing for so desperately, not the way how I would achieve it in the end.

On the way back over to Thassarian I find myself tumbling about, unable to walk in a straight line. Every part of my body felt even more numb than before and my vision has gone blurry, though I didn't suffer any injuries. I never felt like this before. Just as if I had been alive again and now I was gravely wounded and they just left me out there to die.

Luckily for me this condition turns out to be not too persistent. The moment I stand in front of the inn everything has cleared up again, at least for a bit, at least for the current moment. Yet my legs still feel far too weak and fragile to carry me around too much further.

As I slowly make my way up the stairs Thassarian looks at me from his dead, bloodshot eyes. He clearly knows that something is wrong with me, but I don't plan on telling him anything of what had happened no matter how much I feel deep inside that he should understand me.

I only share the important part of the story with those around me, which brightens both of them up a little, making Thassarian leave behind any doubt he had about my situation being alright. That man is far too weak for becoming a champion of our master...

But what am I thinking?

Am I turning weak now too?

NO! I won't turn into a fool like Koltira or Thassarian! Though I don't want to be like Orbaz either... but I would prefer being like him compared to the other two any day... I guess.

"Koltira's cry for vengeance has been answered! Another victory for the Scourge! I salute you my brother." Something about hearing his words makes me feel uncomfortable.

Orbaz is tapping his foot behind us might be a possible reason, but I highly doubt it. Anyways I turn around to look into his cold blue eyes.

"While you burned down churches and murdered vermin, I've been busy formulating a plan. Within the next hour a courier will pass the Scarlet Overlook." He makes a short pause, pointing out of a window. "Just kill him. Kill him, but be careful not to damage his clothes too much. Take his belongings – everything he has and bring them here..., including the rags." I nod to show I understand.

"Hurry up so you don't miss him or I'm forced to kill you... And by 'forced' I mean I will take great pleasure in ending your life." The smile on his lips is deceitful.

As a matter of fact I don't think of his words as a threat. They simply mean nothing to me right now. I still know I'm not at a disadvantage when facing him.

The overlook I'm supposed to head to, is off to the east not too far away, near a path winding down to the coast and the last of the scarlet harbors.

I don't hurry through the empty areas of New Avalon. This war is almost won. It only took us a single day to drive this pitiful Crusade to the brink of annihilation. And soon nothing except for their torn flags will be left of them to be remembered.

Two large watchtowers flank the crooked path leading out of the town. I take a curious look down to the coast from the cliff above and find a rather surprising sight. Their 'harbor' consists of roughly three or four wooden landing stages. But then again, I can make out five large ships with white sails bearing the symbol of the Crusade. A large amount of people are down there loading these last vessels with their remaining hope, whilst others are roaming the coast, keeping it quite heavily guarded all in all.

Seeing the letter 'L' standing for Lordaeron colored crimson like that in the distance appears strangely familiar to me. Something in me wants to come out... I can feel that now. It is almost as if trapped memories are almost breaking free of their heavy chains.

But yet again, all these thoughts are banished in an instant as I hear a horse approaching.

He isn't too far away anymore but it still leaves me about enough time to seek the shelter of nearby shadows before he would spot me.

And there he is, the wind slightly tearing on his crimson cloth, the rider slows down the moment he has passed the two towers. Maybe he feels safe now upon reaching this landmark, ironic that this is the case only after he has left the walls of the city of his beloved Scarlet Crusade.

Soon he will regret that he slowed down early.

I concentrate all my wrath and unguided hatred on the area around the horse of the courier for a moment. I know what I want to happen so I'm rather sure what the shadows were conjuring up for me. I can't hold back the smile as I hear a digging sound. The horse rears up as it comes closer and closer, knocking the courier out of the saddle.

Only shortly afterwards a rotten hand bursts out of the hardened soil. The flesh on it is green, rotten and decaying, only held on the bone by dark magic.

The animal sees the unholy creature emerging from its earthbound tomb and flees back into the city of New Avalon as any sensible being should do. The courier now lies on his back staring in shock at my undead minion as it frees its feet from the cold embrace of the earth. Its eyes are completely black and lifeless, the skin covered with blains of various sizes.

"I LIKE GLITTER!" The blighted creature announces in a distorted voice upon achieving its release.

If their brain would not rot away too, I'm sure they would be far better minions.

The courier still lies on the ground paralyzed by the sight of the ghoul as it comes closer to him. Its movement is clumsy and not very fast, but what would you expect from a former human with most of his stomach missing. Blank ribs are pointing out of the rotten flesh. Its vitals seem to be all gone at least I don't see any of them hanging out. Small lumps of earth are flying everywhere as it shakes and trembles und every step.

As it's not too far away from our prey any more I decide to come closer on my own. Meanwhile the ghouls seems to go ahead and... sniff at the courier?

"RATCARVER HUNGRY!" It announces and with a surprisingly swift movement it sinks its teeth deep into the arm of the whimpering human.

Still in a state of shock and peril it takes a moment for him to even realize what is happening to him right now. But just before he can open his mouth to let out the scream of despair his mind has been searching for over the last couple of minutes, I leap towards him and cut off his head with one clean swipe of my blade.

I know that the voice of a single screaming human more wouldn't matter too much but I don't want to draw any attention or even make them suspicious as it is this close to their last retreat.

"Go... Ratcarver? Go after the head!" I kick the severed body part away with my foot. To my astonishment it really works the way I had it intended to do. The ghoul instantly leaps at the rolling head, running after it clumsy as it is.

The right sleeve is done for by the looks of it, but well... it shouldn't be too difficult to find an excuse for that in a battle ridden environment as this is.

Return to Orbaz instantly would be the right thing to do now.

To my surprise the ghoul is still by my side nibbling on the severed head in its claws as I enter the former inn. Normally the creature should have stayed roaming the area around the Scarlet lookout but instead it stuck with me till now.

I tell the creature to wait on the lower floor and it actually listens to the orders I give. For the moment I leave it standing next to a female bloodelf death knight guarding the entrance of the inn, hoping it wouldn't do too much damage down there. The number of death knight initiates keeping watch in this area of New Avalon is growing thinner by the minute. Most of them are being called back to the black fortress of Acherus; a clear sign of the ultimate defeat for the Scarlet Crusade.

Orbaz takes the letter out of my hands and tells me I should get dressed in the clothes of the Courier as quickly as possible. As I do so he suddenly bursts out in wild laughter.

"The armies of Hearthglen and Tirisfal will be marching into a massacre!" He announces loudly with a joyous tone and a bright smile is on his face. He's really getting excited about the news and for once I can fully understand how he feels about something.

"Are you getting dressed already?" His tone shifts back to something incredibly pressing as his eyes swiftly checked on my progress, urging me to hurry and get into the robes of the courier. They are by far too big, hanging loosely from my skinny body.

"I know that you won't fool anybody looking like this. But the Val'kyr will cast a spell on you that will make up a perfect disguise, at least for a limited amount of time... so you'd better hurry up."

Like many of her sisters the creature shining in a bright white light comes out of the rooms in the back. "She's checking whether the bodies we bring up here are still of use for us or not."

Her lips begin moving but I can't hear a single word she is supposedly saying. Seconds later the world around me is spinning but only for a short moment. After it had stopped again I look down at me to find a completely altered body. The Crusaders might actually fall for this disguise in the blind beliefs. The robe now fits perfectly after my rotten body now again bears fresh meat for a change. As I touch my face I notice the brown beard I am now sporting. This really turns out to be quite a change in appearance.

"Now go! We have only little time and the message must reach their high command at all cost! We don't want to draw their suspicion. Everything must continue as if all was going according to their own plans. They want to fight us in our realm...? What fools they are! But they will pay for their arrogance...!" I hear his words and unwillingly accept his orders. "Meanwhile we will also depart to Acherus. When you are done, retreat as well. We will bring the news of the approaching armies to Highlord Mograine. Make sure you return before they arrive. Don't you dare to stay here waiting for them and have fun all alone!" His eyes narrow down as the last of the words leave his mouth.

Clear of what I had to do I head down the stairs and make my way towards the exit of this building. To my ongoing surprise the ghoul is still down here standing next to the door, waiting for me as I had ordered him to do.

But he breaks with this sudden obedience quickly enough: with a loud "RATCARVER" his claws hit the bloodelf right in the face, tearing off scraps of undead skin.

"Stop it, you dumb ghoul!" I forget myself and yell at him. The bloodelf looks at the creature in disgust as any of her race would do. I'm just waiting for her complaint about it towards me, but I guess she did not forget she's just an underling compared to me.

I dismiss the ghoul upon leaving the building. I couldn't let him stay here, nor could I take him with me. Surely it would be rather awkward for a Scarlet Courier to appear before their general with a ghoul peacefully lingering at his side. Although I guess it would be all kinds of funny to see their faces in such a moment of colliding worlds. But whatever the case it would spell sudden doom for either me or the ghoul... or maybe even both.

Upon his dismissal I can only watch in astonishment how fast these undead puppets could be from time to time as he quite literally buries himself again. But frankly his is not the time to be thinking about unnecessary things like this, I have to focus back on the task I was given.

I have to hurry to the coast, there's no telling how long this spell of the Val'kyr might last. Luckily it's at least not too far away from here, though the path down to their landing stages is heavily guarded, step by step. This would be the first test for my guise already...

But as soon as they spot me a series of reactions is put into quick motion: one after another yells at his companions and me likewise. "Let him pass! Hurry! To the High General with you!"

The way opening up like this I climb down the slope fast and without any problems.

The young woman that took the place of the general in command, with the hazel-brown hair also shouts at me as soon as she sees me. "WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Her voice is piercing, like that of most women in panic. "You are two hours late! We were about to send a messenger to the High Commander!" Without a word I give her the unaltered message as I was ordered by Bloodbane.

"Damn it! The armies must not reach New Avalon at all cost! The Scourge will slaughter them all!" She takes a step towards me. "Listen well, courier. The Scarlet lands are lost. New Avalon and Havenshire are overrun by the Scourge. The specter of death looms overhead and threatens to overtake us at any moment." She swallows hard. "Tell Galvar this: 'Turn your armies around and prepare your ships for travel to the frozen wastes. When we meet next time, it will be in Northrend.' And give him this journal. It will explain everything." She makes a short pause as she has to fight for words. "The Scarlet Crusade is no more... Long live the Scarlet Onslaught!"

I nod again in silence and raise my arm with them so hopefully I don't blow my cover. Turning around immediately to head up the slope again was the best choice to make.

"Make haste!" Abbendis yells behind me and I speed up my pace following her wish, little does she know that this important note would never reach its destination.

The moment I enter New Avalon again the disguise drops. Clearly too close for comfort, but I'm already too far away from the first guards, the slope breaking their vision to me additionally. But my thoughts are already trailing off to somewhere else, my attention now drawn to the journal that this Abbendis woman had given to me. Not giving it too much thought but rather controlled by my own curiosity I open it and flip through some of the pages.

What I find is beyond any description. The content of this diary is lacking any sort of content. Random notes are taken down across the pages, sentences with no beginning or end to them. Lone words on lone pages scattered about. On some of them there are crude drawings I can't fully make out what they are supposed to be. And then... there is this one almost straight in the middle of it all.

It definitely has wings, but what is this... creature?

For the most parts it looks more like the coloring book of some child. As I walk along I read a few lines of actual sentences I find on another page. What rubbish and nonsense these few phrases contain. One foot already in their graves those fools are sailing to their demise.

As I look up again I find myself in Havenshire. The place is as quiet as a graveyard, and well in fact it has become during the earlier morning hours of this day.

Reaching the breach below Acherus the two elven princes Valanar and Keleseth are standing in midst of two bright green circles. Seems they are channeling some sort of spell, but it can't use up too much of their concentration. Valanar even waves at me as I pass by..., strange cocky elves they are.

The platform from before is now a good bit different. It is a lot higher than last time I'd seen it, also a lot darker. The material looks similar to the ore they use for our sets of armor. I have no idea why anybody should want to build a pedestal like this from pure Saronite but well... this is nothing of my concern. Hardly anything is...

Dismissing my thoughts yet again I take the gryphon up to the black fortress.

Up in Acherus I find Koltira and Thassarian standing on the outer rim of the lower area.

Deathweaver greets me as usual, though something about him is clearly different. I did not attribute too much to it at first but he is wearing a shiny new set of full-body armor.

Why did that useless...?

"Looks great, doesn't it?" He smiles at me, knowing fully well that I had spotted it. "They have one for you too!" He announces with a happy tone in his voice. Why do elves have so much interest in dressing themselves?

But even worse! The armor of Koltira looks similar to the one of Highlord Mograine, merely a little bit darker, but also with the horned skulls as shoulders with the crimson eyes. Why of all people would have deserved something like this? It's outrageous and insult to each of us!

Meanwhile as I still curse him in silence Koltira heads on wanting me to follow him to my personal new armor. From the corner of my eye as the elf tries to drag me away, I notice that Thassarian is also wearing a new set. His is dark blue with large spikes on his shoulders, four on each side. The welds are highlighted in a golden tone. Light grey skulls with blue glowing eyes decorating his shoes, gloves and the belt he is wearing.

As Koltira speeds up yet again and turns around into the hallway leading around the middle circle I just turn around and head back to the nearest path so I would get to Mograine without too much delay.

"What are you doing? Get your new armor! It looks great!" Koltira shouts behind me after noticing I wasn't following him anymore.

"I don't have time for this! I have to get to Mograine first! Show me later, insolent worm!" I snarl at him. The elf looks disappointed, stating clearly just how much of an idiot he really is. How could someone like him become a high-ranked death knight? And why the hell did they present him with something like that? He got himself captured out there, dammit!

The rage boiling inside me I step before the Highlord Mograine and force myself to kneel down.

I tell them what I found out without tallying. Everything about the approaching armies has been already conveyed by Bloodbane some minutes earlier. The Highlord looks utmost pleased as I hand over the journal of Abbendis.

A grim smile comes to his lips.

"You did great things today Malevolence, child of our king. Even more than I would have imagined from you and the other three... Now go! Go and collect your reward. Lord Thorval will give you your new set of armor. Something that should be more suitable for a warrior like you than the things you are wearing at the moment. Of all you have earned it."

I bow and back off, still unsure why the elf also received one.

Lord Thorval is the headmaster of the school of blood. I still remember this from earlier this morning, the master had told me so amongst many other things, although I had not seen him until now.

The grounds where he teaches aren't too hard to find. Everything is covered with curdled blood of initiates that were too weak or other 'test subjects' that had been brought up here.

Koltira, Thassarian and Bloodbane were here as well, waiting for me. Seeing all three I can understand why Orbaz gets a new armor... but the other two? Come on... They are little more than foolish initiates that were hardly even able to master the ritual of Death's Challenge.

I come closer to them whilst Bloodbane is still putting on his new boots. His presence seems more angst-inducing than before and a lot stronger too. Now almost any minion of the master would bow to him, I'm sure of it. Still... he gives me a strange look, ridden by an unknown emotion.

Just like Koltira, Lord Thorval is already expecting me. "There it is..." He announces full of pride. "..pitch black, just like the rest of your soul." A grim smile follows along to his words.

The primary color of the armor is black just as he said. It is covered with bronze welts all over, serving as highlights. From the gloves as well as the breastplate a skull is staring at me from bright red eyes. The shoulder pads are rather large and oval with three spikes coming out of the end of each with a bow. A black spike on the top end makes sure no blade will find a way to get through to my neck. It looks kind of dangerous at first, but as soon as I put it on, the armor becomes one with my body. It feels perfect for me and I am sure that spike will be of no harm whatsoever. They also have a helmet for me, but I refuse it. I believe it would only narrow down my field of vision. Something I can't stand at all.

"This armor is completely made of only the purest Saronite. There are no such armors in our army at the moment." Lord Thorval tells us, again with the proud voice. "You are the first ones to get these. Carry them with pride!"

We all know that they will surely try to make more of these if they prove worth the effort. Maybe that is the reason why they gave Koltira one too. With one major difference: He is just a rat they experiment on. If this armor is capable of protecting a fool from dying, it surely will be able to do the same for a real warrior!

"You will soon notice that Saronite will help you focus your powers, to gather strength - magical as well as physical. It is similar to your runeblades. You should also notice that it is significantly lighter than Mithril or even Thorium. Now, suffer well brethren."

Lord Thorval leaves the room and us behind without any further word.

I can only look down at me and find myself to be speechless of what I am wearing at the moment. It feels so good, a feeling I had already forgotten. Where do I know this from? Where...?

But everything is shattered again the moment I touch the bag that I had tied so neatly to my belt. Suddenly everything feels terribly wrong.

"The master wants to see us down at the breach. Get going you scumbags!" Orbaz gives the order, breaking my thoughts apart like shards of glass.

I haven't given too much notice to his armor so far. The style of his shoulder pads is similar to mine, but in a different color. Everything on his armor is in a light red. It doesn't look too spectacular if you'd ask me. But there is no doubting the effect it already has on him. Nevertheless – now bearing my own one I still look at him as equal... maybe even an underling. I hate how he is the one in command without ever being questioned.

The undead gryphons swiftly take us down to the camp again, the armor having no effect on their ability to fly in any way.

The Lich King, our unholy master has now taken his place, standing on the pedestal, overlooking Havenshire and New Avalon.

Ghouls, geists, initiates and abominations - flesh giants sewed together from various different bodies with far too many limbs - roam the area all alike.

We four kneel down in front of the pedestal next to each other, the voice of our master now echoing in our minds, rendering it impossible to make out if he is only whispering to us or if he really shouts it out over the battlefield.

'Feast my children! Feast on the flesh of the living!'

The armies of Hearthglen and Tirisfal have finally reached New Avalon and try to re-conquer Havenshire already.

'Where is your Holy Light now, Crusaders?'

A huge spear is shot from New Avalon straight towards us. It comes down early and only hits the ground in the town below, hurling up earth upon impact. So they have siege-engines with them too.

'Soon you will all be part of the Scourge!'

Still our forces are holding them back without major problems.

'There is no light, only darkness!'

The screams of those that are dying welcome the approaching sundown.

'Leave nobody alive!'

The Scarlet Apocalypse has begun...

'Bow to your eternal King!'


	41. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 11

_Chapter 11: _

'All four of you have served me well, far beyond any other treading in the fields. The mark of the Scourge has been burned into these Scarlet lands to never be forgotten. You have reaped death and destruction for as far as the eye can see and delivered to me the last of the Scarlet armies.'

Our master lifts his arm and points at New Avalon.

'The time has come to finish what you have started!'

The Scarlet Apocalypse he called it. I wonder if the master and the strange elves had actually known it would end like this, right from its beginning.

'There must come an end to all things, my four proud death knights. They are preparing to make their final stand against us. They have no way to escape, trapped facing obliteration they will fight back with all the ferociousness that is left in their hearts.' He makes a short pause, for us to catch up. 'We will unleash true terror upon them. And you four shall be the ones to lead the charge against them!'

Salanar the horseman approaches us from the side.

'As the troops charge the armies in the fields, you will direct them from up above!'

Above? I'd prefer to jump right into the midst of their warriors and let my blade sing its song of death and decay rather than just looking at them from afar...

'On the back of my frostwyrms you will become death itself. Take the horn Salanar gives to you.'

Each one of us receives this gift of the master, all crafted from pure white bones.

'With the horns you can call them. But only a single wyrm will respond to each call, its icy breath will freeze the Crusaders where they stand. Now, go! Go out into the fields where the frostwyrms can land and bring death to the Scarlet Crusade! Offer their souls to Frostmourne and let our army grow even further!'

The voice fades from my mind as we stand up.

I look at the horn in my hand, turning it around a few times. It feels incredibly light, nothing I had ever held before, also giving away a faint streak of dark magic woven carefully into its structure deep down below the surface.

The other three next to me doing about the same, I quickly wonder what we are waiting for and summon my horse. I am the first to ride off into Havenshire. From the corner of my eye I see how Orbaz is growing angry. I guess I just managed to bail out from his 'giving orders'?

I let my deathcharger run as fast as it possibly can, even though it's not that far away.

I have no intention on waiting for the other three. Orbaz is growing way too narcissistic when it comes to being in charge for my liking. He clearly loves hearing his own voice and commanding people around like they are nothing..., again something I understand concerning the elf, but me? No..., not a chance in hell!

The moment my mount steps on the soft earth of the fields I blow into the horn and get off my steed to dismiss the fiend to the realm of shadows.

I turn my head to Acherus the moment I hear a loud flapping noise. Large wings are whirling the air around, closing in on me very fast.

What truly a remarkable creature! Carefully the undead dragon lands next to me turning its head so it can see me with both his eyes at the same time. They glow brightly in an icy blue having you almost feel the chill solely from looking at them.

The creature had been reduced to the mere bones and claws from its former life. Every else, except for maybe a thin layer of what formerly might have been skin between its wings and the spikes on its head, had rotten away a long time ago.

The skull of the dragon is frighteningly similar to the one of a horse although I'm sure it's not nearly as fragile.

Between the large ribs of its body, close to the spine, right in the center I find the source of its unholy power: a small glowing magical orb of purest frost and shadow. White vapors are coming from it and filling up the whole body of the wyrm, giving it essence and with that undeath.

I guess after this battle I should ask the master if I might keep one of these for myself. Maybe he finds himself in a generous mood.

The frostwyrm readily crouches down pressing itself onto the earth so I can get onto its back with ease.

As I take a look to the side I see how Orbaz and the other two finally come riding towards me. But why should I waste any more time waiting for them? With incredible strength the dead dragon pushes itself upwards from the earth before they are even close to me. As soon we are airborne, the large wings are holding us up with strong beats.

The dust that we whirled up was enough to make Bloodbane cover his eyes.

We gain height fast, allowing me to gaze upon the remaining army of the Crusade. They are quite many admittedly. I did not expect that they still had this many followers. Their numbers are easily more than twice as many people as we fought in Havenshire and New Avalon.

What a pleasant surprise.

Their heads are turning to me as I continue to rise up high over the city walls. The wyrm seems linked to my thoughts, it follows every instruction I think without hesitation or making any problems.

The crusaders act quickly though. They turn their ballistae towards me and shoot. But the large spears are far too slow to ever hit us, with graceful turns the frostwyrm dodges any of them.

After we are in a stable position again, the creature opens its mouth to attack. An orb the size of my body is forming between its jaw and only seconds later it is send flying at the crusaders. Purest frost magic, their death will be cold...

The orb hits the ballista right in their midst, instantly covering it with a thick layer of ice that is several inches thick. The Crusaders near to it are also instantly frozen into living statues. If they die like this with conserved bodies, they will surely be fine initiates for our army.

Those not in range of the initial blast take out their bows and begin shooting arrows at us. A futile effort at the most...

Several more of these orbs are now flying into the masses.

New Avalon will be becoming a frozen-paradise of death and demise for us to enjoy.

By now the other three have also mounted their frostwyrms and managed to catch up to me. Koltira was the last, nourishing any cliché about elves and dragons I know of...

One mounted wyrm would be enough to bring death to their army as I found out so easily - now four of them are flying on the firmament, looming from overhead just as the High General had said. Some of the Crusaders try to flee back to Tyr's Hand the way they came from marching in, but Thassarian is quick to blocks their way out with his dragon. And the coastline is already guarded off by Koltira.

Orbaz and I will be the ones to do the Scarlet Harvest, the laughter of the Lich King echoing in our minds as more and more are captured in their tombs of ice.

It takes only mere minutes until all of them are trapped under a thick layer of ice-cold death. Soon they will die and then their lingering bodies will become a part of our army, strengthening our ranks.

After we're done, we head back to the middle of Havenshire, to the large field where our undead dragons are able to land, so we can get off the frostwyrm's backs. Three of us summon their deathcharger instantly and almost in unity, only Koltira insists on staying behind a little longer carefully petting the frostwyrm's head as if it would be able to feeling anything at all.

If really every elf is supposed to be like this guy or the bloodprince brothers, I don't ever want to have to meet any others of their kind.

As we return to the camp below the black fortress, Valanar steps forth to greet us, already awaiting our arrival.

"The master is very pleased with such a grand harvest of souls. Twilight approaches and the Scarlet Crusade is no more. I applaud you, it was mainly thanks to you." He claps his hands three or four times leisurely. "The master is eager to present you with a reward worthy of you, measured by the things you have achieved today. Aside to that it should have you prepared for the next battle to come shortly. Highlord Mograine will present the gifts of our master to you personally under the eyes of the Lich King. You should hurry up, all of you. He does not like waiting..." Valanar smiles at me before he bids farewell. A gift he said - again already?

I don't care if the other two would tell Koltira about this as well or not, I just take the gryphon up to the black fortress as I have been told.

Being back in Acherus has something strangely soothing to it, hard to describe. As the three of us make our way over to the teleporter the initiates passing by bow in front of us and back off carefully in fear. Well, I guess I could get used to that.

Getting to the upper level is as fast as always, no pointless stairs wasting time.

Our master is already standing at the balcony again, the Highlord of the Scourge right next to him. But we aren't allowed to approach them yet. He hasn't called for us. Forced to wait Orbaz and Thassarian start some chit-chat about the events of this day, yet I only try to avoid participating in any of it. I'm already too absorbed by looking at the master's weapon. He is currently using it as a support, the tip of the sword resting on the ground, surely even digging its way ever so slightly into the ground of this floating fortress. The skull on its handle and the runes shining from the blade are pointing in my direction. Countless voices, familiar and alien to me are shouting out towards me... itself is screaming at me that I should be the one possessing it. Every fiber of my body wants me to take it, to wield it in combat, to drive it through the hearts of my unlucky enemies.

My thoughts are shattered by a strange sound as Koltira appears out of the teleporter and only seconds later our king calls out for the four of us.

'Come to me my children.'

"I guess we can finally get started..." Orbaz mumbles to himself in anger.

The four of us are finally allowed to take the small staircase up onto the balcony. We stop with a fair distance to the master and kneel down, again just like puppets dancing on a string cord. The Lich King then turns to us, his intense blue eyes gazing down upon us, his minions, and the Highlord Mograine approaches us. Bloodbane kneels to my left and Thassarian to my right, Koltira is the one furthest off to the side and next to the other fool.

Mograine stops only few steps in front of us. He then looks to the back of the hall and with a short gesture he waves to someone or something to come over here too.

Heavy sounding steps behind us make me want to turn my head, but the master wouldn't allow it. A large undead creation eventually walks past us and takes its place next to the high walls. Even though its movement seemed clumsy, it still appears to be incredibly fast. It's an abomination just like the ones that attacked the Scarlet Crusade in the field only minutes ago, but... this one - it is at least three times as large as those.

Turning around it stops by the side of Mograine.

"Patchwerk miss Naxxramas." The creature announces and clutches its fists.

As it then re-opens his large right palm, it displays a variety of different weapons, a total of four swords, two of them one-handed and something that looks like a polearm.

"Today all of you have brought victory to the Scourge with the complete annihilation of the Scarlet Crusade. You four stand out of the crowd of initiates and have proven your worth for our army several times over the course of the Scarlet Apocalypse. You are on the right way of becoming champions of our eternal king." Darion makes a pause before he continues. "The master wants all four of you to be equipped as good as possible for the upcoming battle. It is by far our most important up to this point. Our objective will be the Chapel of Light's Hope to the west. As a preparation for the fight and as a reward for what you have done today, each of you will receive a weapon that was crafted according to your need and refined especially for you and you alone."

Mograine falls for his false reflexes and takes a short breath before he then announces "All of them are already runeblades, but still lacking a proper name. Name them by yourself if you wish to do so. I personally recommend it to you, so that you will be able to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy on day just from them knowing the name of your blade!"

Then he steps over to the abomination called Patchwerk and takes one of the two-handed swords out of its fist and approaches Koltira.

The blade of the sword is divided into two parts. The upper half up to its tip is colored in light green, almost yellow giving it the look of gemstones or maybe even glass. The lower part looks more like metal, iron or Saronite I'd recon. The handle is wrapped in red leather, its end resembling a claw of some sort - all in all a strange, yet aesthetic weapon.

"Stand up, Koltira Deathweaver. At this hour I present to you this weapon. It is a sister-blade to the mighty sword Apolyon, the Soul-Render once wielded by a demon officer of the Burning Crusade. This blade has the power to drink the blood of its enemies as well as to cause terror amongst them only from taking a single glimpse at it. It flows well with the shadows and is known by them as a companion with darkest desires. And still it also remains to be a fearsome weapon for hand-to-hand combat, allowing swift strikes from various directions. Your combat skills excel when you are able to manipulate the shadows and have the power over mighty diseases."

The Highlord hands over the sword.

"Wield it with pride and let your own name color the sword, Deathweaver."

Koltira bows deeply after receiving the mighty weapon and kneels back down, the sword now next to him. Why did that elf get such a ridiculously powerful weapon? That idiot got himself caught by the Crusade, I rescued him and for that he was rewarded with such a sword? What the hell is going on in the mind of my kind?

But Darion Mograine rightfully cares not for my silent complaints as he has already taken the next weapon out of Patchwerk's hand, a pair of one-handed swords. The blades of the weapons are rather thin and surprisingly long. Their tips though are considerably thicker than the rest of the sword, giving them the look of an insect's sting. Near the hand guard the blade is jagged. The handle itself is of a darkened red, almost violet - both swords totally alike.

"Stand up, Thassarian. At this hour I present to you these weapons. These swords are crafted from hardened Saronite. They are sharp, yet still lighter than any weapon you might have wielded until this point. They are designed for swift blows coming from both hand and are mainly made for cutting the enemy into ribbons. Use these weapons efficiently and you will become a fury on the battlefield. Your combat skills excel when using two swords at the same time and thus these blade will serve you well."

Mograine hands over the weapons.

"Wield them with pride and let them decide your fate, rather than poor judgment."

It seems everything they did wrong over the past day was already forgiven... Thassarian lost his last weapon and still... How can they present him with something like this after what had happened?

The Highlord then proceeds to take the other two-handed sword from Patchwerk. This is definitely the biggest weapon the abomination has carried. I somehow expect him to give this to Bloodbane as the sword is easily as tall as I am. The blade of it is so long that it is divided into three parts, connected with circular pieces of metal. The whole thing is of a bleak dark grey, the handle only slightly breaks with this as it has accentuations of a faint violet. There are bonds around the blade connecting it with the handle to absorb hits more efficiently if you have to block or parry something, otherwise your shoulder might just get shattered. The weapon is not especially beautiful, but it surely would be a strong sword to wield once mastered.

"Stand up, Malevolence." Caught off guard I stagger getting up as I ordered. That... is going to be my weapon?

"At this hour I present to you this weapon. This sword was forged from Titanium giving it extreme stability whilst sporting only little more weight than a Saronite weapon. The blade is sharpened and delivers blows like no other. When making good use of its momentum it will allow you to split apart your opponents with ease. It may only look like a simple weapon at first, but it will grow with the one using it. Your style of combat is dominated by strength and pure force, excelling in unparalleled physical dominance."

Mograine hands over the sword to me. I have trouble taking it from him, even when using both my hands to only have it lie down in front of me. After kneeling again my eyes are again fixed to my new weapon. As I let them run along the blade's edges, I hear the voice of my master in my head. It is quieter than usual and I'm hardly able to understand was he is saying.

'From all the death knights, all my children... you and I are different. We both are the ones closest to the first generation.'

I don't know what these words were to mean exactly. But what should I say?

Orbaz is already kneeling down again, I notice. I was so fixed upon my new weapon that I didn't catch anything what was said about him. Only thing I can truly tell is that now this strange black polearm is lying next to his side. The upper part looks like an axe, but all in all it is some sort of cross-over from the two weapons.

All four of us rise to our feet given the unheard command.

"Now that you have received your new weapons and tools, it is time for the final battle in the plaguelands. We will crush the Argent Dawn just as we crushed the Scarlet Crusade! Scourge Commander Thalanor will be awaiting your arrival near the old Browman's sawmill to give you further instructions. Let your weapons taste their blood as it runs freely through the plaguelands! Suffer well, brothers."

Highlord Mograine turns to the master and leaves us standing where we are.

All four of us are now picking up our new weapons. I guess it will be difficult to get used to them this quickly, especially for me but well... I'll manage somehow. I don't intend to die so quickly.

Yet before I turn around to walk away, my eyes fall one last time onto the blade of the Lich King.

Seeing Frostmourne this close makes me want to throw my new blade aside instantly.


	42. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 12

_Chapter 12: _

The Scarlet Crusade was destroyed, it last crumbling foundations crushed underneath the feet of our ghouls. The few that survived now call themselves 'Scarlet Onslaught' and are sailing to the frozen wastes, directly into our open arms. They say the Holy Light is guiding them there. Maybe this 'Holy Light' has finally turned insane too, I wonder.

Either way they will be dealt with later after they have arrived in Northrend.

But now the eyes of the Lich King have shifted his sight to another target. He spoke his final command and all attention is turned to Light's Hope. The armies of the Scourge pour down the hill to Browman's Mill gathering in a fair distance to the once fair Chapel.

The final battle for the plaguelands approaches and we are destined to win. They have no chance, not even for glory in their defeat. Our numbers reach into the tens of thousands, the necromancers on the hills close by continuously summoning large fleshgiants from the frozen heart of Icecrown. Creatures similar to the smaller abominations yet with a more humanoid look to them, overshadowing them in strength as well. I don't know if they even have a hundred warriors at the chapel to defend. Concerning our last battle this should be as easy as cherry picking.

Especially as we all commit to the charge lead by Highlord Mograine. You can almost feel how the corrupted Ashbringer on his back is happily awaiting the fight and bloodshed along to it.

Koltira, Bloodbane, Thassarian and I are sitting on our deathchargers close behind him, eagerly awaiting the command to strike.

The area around the sawmill is crowded with ghouls, all of them blabbering strange incomprehensible things. Many of them are still wearing the uniform of the Scarlet Crusade..., sweet, sweet irony.

Everything turns quiet the second Highlord Darion Mograine lifts his left hand. Even the ghouls fall silent and I ask myself if they actually listen or if they are only 'shut down' by the master.

"The Argent Dawn stands defiantly against us at Light's Hope Chapel. They dare to oppose the Scourge and for that reason alone they must be destroyed!" His voice is loud and clear, bursting down upon us like thunder in a storm. The few minions with a mind of their own cheer as he makes a first pause. Like a real leader, he is able to reach his underlings with ease. Orbaz and I are probably the only ones that remain quiet for now.

"The mighty armies of the Lich King stand at the ready as the final battle for the plaguelands approaches." He takes a deep breath and then shouts out with all his blighted soul put behind "Today you will ascend into the immortal realm of Scourge heroes!"

This time even Bloodbane and I can't hold our composure and begin cheering.

"Are you prepared, death knights?"

The loud yells from most of the minded-ones unite into a clear 'Yes, we are!'

"So be it then. Soldiers of the Scourge, stand ready! Prepare to unleash your relentless fury upon the Argent Dawn!" Now he is addressing to all the undead in the area. "The sky weeps at the glorious devastation of these lands! Soon, Azeroth's futile tears will rain down upon us! Death knights of Acherus, the death march begins! Soldiers of the Scourge, minions of darkness: hear the call of the Highlord! RISE! The skies turn red with the blood of the fallen! The Lich King watches over us, minions! Leave only ashes and misery in your destructive wave!"

The ghouls moan loudly as Mograine points towards the Chapel. This is the order to attack. Freed from the bonds of this frail unison I am the first to charge at Lights Hope with my deathcharger.

I will do as you have ordered my king. I shall offer you many souls today. I will make you proud!

Directly behind me follows the Highlord, catching up swiftly. The moment his horse charged, everyone else started going after us. To my surprise these ghouls can easily keep up with our steeds, they even manage to overtake us. Their crooked and wretched sight truly is treacherous. Even the fleshgiant amongst them, who was the last to start moving, is gaining ground due to its enormous size it easily travels about as fast as the ghouls.

"Scourge armies approaching!" I can hear them yell. "Stand fast, brothers and sisters! The Light will prevail!" Their own insanity carried proudly within their ranks they prepare their last line of defense against us.

I slow down a bit so that Mograine can catch up with me and a few more of the faster geists and ghouls overtake us. The defenders of the Light are readily standing on the small hill the chapel was built upon, waiting for us to arrive, the inevitable death caressing the battle worn bodies. They are at least more than I had expected: a few hundreds in total. Still not even close to enough to defeat us.

Jumping off my steed and dismissing it to the realm of shadows, I plunge myself head first into the fray. I won't be needing it here. It would only be in the way and obstruct my movements.

I have already decided how I want to call the sword my master gave to me an hour ago.

Armageddon shall be its name and with it I will show the Argent Dawn true despair! What a fine occasion to let it drink its first sips of blood.

After finding a name for the blade, it seems that it became slightly lighter. Since then I am able to lift it with a single hand, but I still use two hands to strike nevertheless. Though I guess that's only a matter of proficiency with such a mighty weapon. Once a blow is set into motion, nothing can stop it. Everything that is not cut by the sharp edge will surely be smashed by the momentum the huge blade carries along.

The first defenders of the Light come charging towards me, answering to our battle cries with their own. That poor bastard up front... he tries to block my first strike with his hammer. His little weapon is torn apart as well as his arms are, drawing the first blood of the fight.

The range of the sword is incredible. It is easy to hit someone who is standing more than three feet away from you and still it offers sufficient mobility in closer quarters. Mastering a weapon like this to its full extent will surely increase my capabilities on many fields.

From the corner of my eyes I can see Koltira with his new weapon jumping around like a madman. The blade cuts easily through the thickest layers of armor. His weapon seems to be the sharpest of ours complementing the way he fights, despite it looking more like dancing than anything else.

Honestly, with every minute I spend together with that elf, his people lose more and more of my sympathy.

"Spare no one!" The Highlord cries out as a member of the Argent Dawn falls to the corrupted blade of the Ashbringer. Eagerly it tastes the blood of his foes.

Even though you know the weapon you wield is nothing more than a piece of metal you still come to look at it as an entity. You treat it with a certain respect. You even begin calling it by its name. It becomes someone who is close to you, closer than anybody else. It becomes a true friend you rely on.

And I'm sure Armageddon will be terrific 'friend' for me too as already one warrior after the other falls to my blade. In the hectic of battle I taste the blood myself as a few spurts hit my face. Bloodbane is close by also fighting like a madman. His eyes are widened, an insane smile shines on his face as he crushes bones and cuts open his enemies. Both of us would have to be careful not to come into the other one's path today.

The members of the Argent Dawn fall, hundreds of them are dead already, torn apart by our weapons, by the teeth and the claws of the ghouls fighting around us.

"What? ... Power... wanes..." I see how the Highlord is tumbling as his words tear me from the trance that is bloodshed. What is happening there? He tries to strike down another foe. "The Ashbringer defies me... Minions! To my aid!" Ghouls come rushing towards him and attack the warriors surrounding Mograine as he falls, dropping the blade. "You will do as I command! I am in control!" He yells at his sword as he seemingly turns unable to pick it up again. Why is the Ashbringer suddenly acting like this? Isn't it one of the mightiest weapons in the ranks of the Scourge? What is going on... what is happing to it?

"My... I cannot strike...?"

A faint glow can be seen from the distant woods taking all of us by surprise. Even Orbaz Bloodbane lowers his weapon for a moment as everybody turns their heads fearing what might appear to banish the darkness we carry. Is this the return of the light..?

"You cannot win, Darion!" It is but the voice is that of an old man that follows. As he emerges from the trees his body is engulfed by the brightly shining rays of light, yet you can still make out that he was once a strong and proud fighter. It is the golden armor he is wearing that is emitting such a strong glow, blinding us as if he is the Light himself. His hair and the beard on the other hand are already completely white.

"Tirion Fordring?" Our Highlord asks in disbelief.

Bloodbane seems to know this man too for some reason as he summons his unholy steed in an instance and flees off to the south like the coward he is deep inside. A few members of the Argent Dawn want to chase after him, but his mount proves to be too fast.

Fordring rides on his steed directly through the masses of undead to the front of the chapel. The ghouls back off as he passes them, they even fear to only touch him.

Paralyzed by his sight, all of them are cut down easily by the warriors of the Argent Dawn that are still standing.

"To the Chapel with them!" The old man calls out.

And just as his words trail off in the distance strange rays of light suddenly engulf Thassarian, Koltira and me. All three of us drop our weapons as we are pulled by an incredible force towards Fordring. We are smashed onto the ground in front of him with an unknown pressure resting upon our shoulders. I manage to push myself up a little, but all I can do for now is to kneel before Fordring.

As Tirion's eyes look upon the Highlord, he is also forced to his knees whilst all the other death knights are pinned to the ground with their whole body.

Unable to defend ourselves and at the mercy of the Argent Dawn it takes only seconds until Mograine has to announce our defeat.

"Stand down death knights. We have lost... The Light... This place... No hope left for us..." I would have never expected to hear something like this from him.

It is then Tirion Fordring who opens his mouth to speak up.

"Have you learned nothing boy? You have become all that your father fought against. Like that coward, Arthas, you allowed yourself to be consumed by the darkness... the hate it breeds. Feeding upon the misery of those you tortured and killed..!" My whole body aches as I am still fighting against the pressure pinning me down to the ground. "Your master knows exactly what lies beneath this Chapel. It is why he dares not show his face! He has sent you and your death knights to meet their doom, Darion!"

The... our master sent us to our own end?

"What you are feeling right now is the anguish of a thousand lost souls! Souls that you and your master have brought here! The light will tear you apart!"

"Save your breath, old man. It might be the last you ever draw!" Mograine announces as he fights against the same pressure as I do. He gathers all the strength he has left and stands up, throwing off the despair holding on to him. But the fight we brought onto the chapel was indeed lost and it was his weapon that decided to end it for us.

The Ashbringer in his hands starts to glow in a bright golden light all of a sudden. The image of a man with a sword in his hand forms behind us. That man... I have seen him before. Could this really be? It is the weapon he carries in his hand that leaves no doubt. This is the real Ashbringer - Alexandros Mograine, his soul has finally left the corrupted blade!

"My son! My dear, beautiful boy." The voice in which he speaks is faint, a bit hollow even, as if he is far away, distant to this world.

"Father?" Darion cries out in disbelief, his body trembling. "Argh..., what is..." He falls to his knees again as another almost completely grey figure slowly forms before our eyes. This... I had seen this person before too... This is Darion Mograine when he was younger? "Father you have returned! You have been gone a long time... Father! I thought..."

The voice of Alexandros is calm and soothing. "Nothing could keep me away from my home and family." With every word he speaks I see the images of Alexandros Mograine standing in a large hall in front of an altar more clearly. I see the bright glow of the mighty weapon on his back. I can almost listen to his voice preaching to the crowd as it had once a long time ago.

"Father! I wish to join you in the war against the undead! I can sit idle no longer! I want to fight at your side!" Darion announces with the lighthearted voice of a child.

"Darion Mograine, you are barely of age to hold a sword, let alone battle the undead hordes of Lordaeron! I couldn't bear losing you. Even only the thought pains me..." Alexandros responds with a lone tear in his eye.

"If I die, father, I would rather be on my feet, standing in defiance against the undead legions! If I die, father, I die with you!" His voice is clear and filled with determination. He is sure of what he speaks.

With a smile Alexandros responds to him.

"My son, there will come a day when you will command the Ashbringer and, with it, mete justice across this land. I have no doubt that when that day finally comes, you will bring pride to our people and that Lordaeron will be a better place because of you. But, my son, that day is not today. Do not forget..."

It is in this moment that a black portal of convulsing shadows in constant motion appears behind the vision of Alexandros and his son.

"Touching..." The voice of the Lich King fills the air together with a chill running down to the core of your bones. "He is mine now..." He steps out of the portal and as the blade of Frostmourne touches the back of Alexandros he is sucked into the weapon.

The image of the younger Mograine also disappears, but back to its host instead.

I gaze at the scene and try to comprehend what is happening here. It proves hard to think anything at all.

"You have betrayed me! You betrayed all of us, you monster! FACE THE MIGHT OF MOGRAINE!" The Highlord cries out and charges blindly at his former master. Yet the Lich King doesn't even bother starting a counter, he only repels the attack which sends Darion flying off to the side and crashing into the woods.

"Pathetic..." He lifts Frostmourne and points it at Tirion Fordring. "You were right, Fordring. I did send them to die here. Their lives are meaningless, but yours..."

It..., it couldn't be, but my own ears. It was the truth? He sent us here to meet our own death. He sent us to die just to lure out an old man? My hand touches the small bag at my belt, already running away again from the truth only to something worse. I went through all this to be sold to my own demise by him without batting an eye?

Anger... hatred... despair... sorrow... all these feelings rise up in me, fueling the wrath of ages. But Armageddon lies next to the feet of Arthas. It is impossible to get to it from here, if I could only reach it.

"How simple it was to draw the great Tirion Fordring out of hiding. You've left yourself exposed, paladin. Nothing will save you now!"

Jets of shadow magic shoot from Frostmourne to Tirion. They hit him and immediately spread all over his old weakened body sending him to his knees grasping for air.

One of the warriors of the Argent Dawn that are also watching the scene takes initiative and shouts "ATTACK!"

Everybody who could still move rushes blindly towards Arthas...

And with a sole wave of his hand all of them are knocked back, several even die.

"APOCALYPSE!" He announces his victory only seconds away.

The shadows try to get a good hold of Tirion Fordring. He will crush him and every bone in his living body.

But it's not over yet. A faint voice from the side speaks up again.

"This day... is not today...! TIRION! The blade!" Mograine shouts out and throws the Ashbringer to Fordring. The moment Tirion grabs the sword Darion collapses, not sure whether he is still alive or dead for good. I feel so useless... I can't do a thing.

Only seconds after the Ashbringer came to the hands of Fordring, the glow of the blade grows stronger. The wan green slowly perishes as more and more pure light flows through the corrupted sword. I don't believe it!

The Ashbringer is fully cleansed as Tirion becomes awash with light, also disrupting the spell of the Lich King.

"ARTHAS!" His voice now shows no sign of anger, but purity instead.

"What is this?" The Lich King takes a step back, unsure of what has happened.

"Your end." Tirion replies short, but without any anger, before he charges at him and strikes.

The Lich King is hardly able to block the attack.

"Impossible... This isn't over yet! The next time we meet, it won't be on holy ground, paladin!" He announces before he quickly leaves through the dark portal behind him, closing it immediately after he had stepped through. He left us behind for good. He left us to die...

The pressure on my body now dissolves. The will to fight against them completely broken I slowly walk over to my weapon and pick it up under the wary eyes of the Argent Dawn. The gesture for them to calm them down not enough I fix the sword to my back and stand down.

"Rise Darion!" I hear Fordring call out, but I don't listen to what they talk about.

I instead focus on something I had just now noticed. Memories they return, slow but steadily they come flowing back to me, breaking free from their chains as the bond to my former master seems to be shattered.

I even know my name... I know all of the names I had over the time. I can remember Corren and what happened to him. I remember that I was part of the Scarlet Crusade. And I come to realize that I probably killed some of my former fellow apprentices today. I remember Keira and what she used to tell me about the dragon flights.

And it extends even further... I remember the months after dying a first time. I remember Darnys and Calystea.

So much pressure and so much loose information all of a sudden. My head starts aching.

I open the small bag I took from Keira's body. Inside there is the ring I slid off her finger, two things that look like fangs and a scale in a bright red color. Thinking about the possibility alone that she wanted to give this scale to me makes me feel sick.

I want to cry like the frail child I once was but I can't. Not anymore.

I hear how Tirion shouts out loud. "The Argent Crusade comes for you, ARTHAS!"

"So too do the Knights of the Ebon Blade... While our kind has no place in this world, we will fight to bring an end to the Lich King. THIS I VOW!" Mograine adds forming a new bond to bind us into this existence.

And only naturally it comes easy for me to focus my hatred on Arthas. Everything that had happened was due to him. The death of my father and mother, my friends... my own... And now he wanted to sacrifice me too just to lure out one paladin.

But I don't really want to be part of the Ebon Blade or whatever Mograine called it, at least not like this.

Our former Highlord then turns to the rest of us death knights.

"Brothers and sisters! There will be no atonement for us. We are forever damned to walk the earth as monsters. While the Lich King may have lost his grip upon us, the specters of the past will forever haunt our memories!" He makes a short pause. And yes, they will for sure. "We have to make amends in the only way we know how: DEATH!" He raises his arm. "I ask you now to join me in Acherus as Knights of the Ebon Blade. Together we will destroy the Lich King and bring an end to the Scourge!"

I put the four items back into the bag again. The last thing that I turn in my hand is the red scale. The skin of my fingers that touches it almost seems to be alive again for a few seconds, feeling its texture.

I still want to shed a tear for what had happened to me, but on the other side I still had become stronger. And I believe that was what I had wished for, wasn't it?

As I look around me I spot only fools that call themselves death knights, fools that all want revenge for their own betrayal.

But I want vengeance for everything that Arthas had done to me, my family and my friends.

I vow to myself and the spirits of the ones I once loved that have now passed away:

Arthas will suffer! He will get what he deserves for everything he has done to me, to everyone!

It may be selfish, but it will be just.

I will be one to bring him to his knees, no matter what it takes of me.

I will be the one to take Frostmourne from his cold, lifeless fingers!


	43. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 13

_Chapter 13: _

Struck down by the light Mograine used the last amount of energy he could control to summon a portal back into the dark halls of the fortress of Acherus. It appeared similar to the one the Lich King had used to appear in front of Tirion Fordring, but the destination differed. I know as much, though nothing beyond that.

He briefly explained that only death knights would be able to step through it without taking any harm.

And thus Darion, Koltira, Thassarian and I are the first to step through it.

There is only a couple of ghouls and val'kyrs on the lower floor remaining, all in all no match for us even in our weakened state. Just as we are entering the lower circle the young Mograine takes two swords from a near weapon rack.

"The haze has been lifted my brothers... I can see as clearly now as the day that I plunged the Ashbringer into my own heart to free my father's cursed soul: my last memory as a free man." His voice is filled with sorrow for a moment. It is the first time I've ever noticed a feeling in this man's voice.

"We must take back Acherus from the Scourge if our order is to survive in this new world... The first battle of the Knights of the Ebon Blade in underway! Death to the Scourge!"

Thassarian, Koltira and I step onto the teleporter to the upper area.

The whole upper level is infested with abominations the large one that carried our weapons is standing in the middle of them all.

"Patchwerk miss Naxxramas. Maybe kills quickly so Patchwerk go home?" It blabbers out as it spots us.

A few more initiate death knights appear out of the teleporter reinforcing our numbers, setting the odds into our favor. I look at Koltira and Thassarian for a short moment expecting that any of the two might say something or give the signal to attack. After nothing has happened for a while I shrug and charge at the abomination nearest to us. I forgot how both of them were to be lead.

Even this way it takes the two a while to understand what I am doing. But they, as well as the other death knight initiates, follow me into the fray with only little delay.

The abominations don't get killed easily. It takes a lot of blows to send even only one of them to rest. And for other not even that is enough. They keep on fighting if you sever their heads, arms and legs... it simply does not matter. But the worst about fighting them is the awful stench they create. Their guts are hanging out and leaving a trail of ooze behind them with every movement they make, surpassing even rotten sense of smell one like us should have by now.

We clean up roughly a third of the room without too many difficulties. The giant abomination named Patchwerk in the middle is still paying no attention to us. We have to kill him otherwise we won't be able to take Acherus as ours. And just as Armageddon cuts down through another smaller abomination, a group of initiates attack Patchwerk. Those overzealous fools!

"Patchwerk play!" The fist of the abo, easily as tall as a tauren, rushes towards the ground, faster than you would ever expect from a creature this large, especially when you know how slow his little counterparts are. A human death knight is too slow to dodge the attack and disappears underneath the lump of dead flesh that is supposed to be the hand of Patchwerk. The helmet of the death knight is rolling to the feet of the other initiates as the only thing that remained. But the true horror is displayed the moment Patchwerk lifts his fist again. A few bones and shreds of broken armor are skewered into his gigantic fingers, the rest of the body reduced to a bloody mass mixed up of bones and Saronite.

The initiates now realizing how much of a dumb idea to charge at that abo was, but it is too late for them. They try to run, but the creature just starts chasing them with its heavy steps. He can easily keep up with them by casually walking.

"Cut the seams at his legs!" I yell over to them, wondering if they will ever react to the hint I just gave them. Patchwerk is after all only a ... well, patchwork. As I see no reaction from the initiates whatsoever I shout to Koltira that he should come with me. The elf hesitates, but follows me eventually whilst the giant abomination is still chasing after the three other initiates.

"The seams at his legs..! Cut them Deathweaver! Let's bring this rag rug down..."

I try to get to the left leg while Koltira tries his best to keep up with the creature at all. Using Armageddon while running is damn difficult... As my sword finally hits the legs of the giant and cuts halfway through it, I am swept away by a backwards attached arm of the abo, sending me flying back towards Thassarian.

Koltira on the other hand managed to do what I told him for a change. The giant leg came off without trouble letting Patchwerk tumble and fall over onto its open stomach.

Quickly I get back to my feet knowing fully well that we still have to sever the other leg as well as the three arms if want this thing anywhere to helpless.

I hurry to get back to my sword, which is still stuck inside the stump of the abo. Though cutting off the other leg shouldn't be too difficult now. Yet getting rid of the arms will still be a problem. And then it happens another death knight initiate comes too close to the abo again.

"Patchwerk angry!" The creature cries with unknown ferocity and grabs the nightelf. His bones are snapping loudly underneath the armor as Patchwerk keeps on squeezing the elf before he throws him head-first against the nearest wall as he gets sick of this poorly designed toy.

It's astonishing how much blood still courses through the veins of those half-undead death knights, there is hardly any of it left inside of me.

With utmost care I approach from the large bulk from the left side. Again already it proves great that Armageddon's blade has such a long reach. I can cut the seams of the abo's shoulder without endangering me too much. Still, I have to be quick when doing it.

With a clean strike the left arm of Patchwerk now lies motionless next to the monster, but I was almost hit by the strange small arm on his shoulder in return.

Incredible how bothersome these creatures can get to be...

Throwing most of the care into the wind I get on its back to detach the right arm, but just as I'm on the creature starts trying to roll around and bury me underneath its bloated body.

Tumbling from left to right wouldn't stop though. After another swift strike later the abomination is blabbering strange things and the second arm lies to its right side. The immediate danger dealt with I jump off its back and decide that the initiates can take care of the rest on their own.

"No more... play?" Are the last words I hear from Patchwerk after someone has cut off the creature's head.

The last few smaller abominations roaming the room should be no problem for any of the initiates, although... by now I should probably call them knights of the Ebon Blade.

Koltira and Thassarian are already heading to the teleporter when my eyes meet something most interesting. It's a grey two-handed axe that is leaning against the wall next to the black anvils of Acherus.

The weapon appears to be rather simple: one side of its head has a normal round blade, typical for an axe and on the other side there is a smaller one which has a pointy tip so it can also be used as a pike in case of need.

A large blue gemstone is inserted into the head of the axe where it connects with the handle.

Except for the gem it looks like a plain weapon, yet as I pick it up I instantly feel how good it lies in my hand. The light material, the overall handling is incredible but something is missing. It feels ... so empty.

I wonder who this weapon was meant for as I turn in my hands and try a swing or two.

Yet as no one had claimed it so far I might as well take it with me I decide.

Only a few moments later I find Koltira and Thassarian how they are already talking to Mograine about the progress on the upper floor.

"Very well indeed! The rest of the Scourge shall be dealt with soon and the rebuilding process will begin anew." Mograine looks at us three.

"I have but one last task I have to ask of you." He continues. "You are now and forever will be, Knights of the Ebon Blade, but know this: you all were once heroes of the Horde and the Alliance. This order must establish allies for itself if it is to survive in dire times like these. You must represent the Knights of the Ebon Blade in Orgrimmar and Stormwind! I will do my best to open two portals for you so that you can travel there quickly!"

Our former Highlord then for a moment and two portals appear behind us on the rim of the balcony we all once stood upon.

"The left one will lead to Durotar, directly to the front of the city gates of Orgrimmar. The right one will do the same for Stormwind. It is all up to you." His voice sounds almost pleading.

Thassarian and Koltira bow and step through the portals without hesitation like good little minions, but I remain for a moment longer.

"I found this weapon on the up..." I want to ask, but Mograine interrupts me before I can finish the question.

"It is made of titanium-infused Saronitesteel – a weapon beyond anything this world has seen up to this present day. One could argue that it is the same as titansteel but with the advantages only the purest Saronite carries. Not only is it hard and resistant like titanium, but also rather light and easy to shape while heated up in the right forge. It also has a strong affinity for magic. It's a test-subject to be honest if you want to call it that way, not even a runeblade yet." Mograine looks off to side for a moment, thinking about something before he turns back to me. "We figured that this material is closest to the metal Frostmourne is made of, yet it still is not the same. Not by far the same."

I think for a moment as I want to respond but instead drop the words that were forming in the back of my head.

Darion seems pleased by my silence and carries on to say something I would have expected. "Keep it, the once nameless child. Neither I nor the Ebon Blade will mind, you have done a great deal to recover Acherus for us, Malevolence."

He talks as if he already knows that I don't really want to be a member of their order. Not denying him in his choice of words I indeed have plans of my own already.

Nevertheless I thank him for his gratitude and also back off to the portal leading to Orgrimmar.

The warm, dusty wind of Durotar grazes my face as I leave the swirling pool of shadows behind me, not clearly feeling it but knowing it is there. Yet the first thing I have to see on the other end of this loophole in space and time are two ice-blue elven eyes of Koltira who had decided it'd be a good idea waiting for me. He says that we now can go see Thrall together.

But I just turn him down. It's the right thing to do...

"Don't start to get wrong expectations little elf. I don't want to get dragged into this any further. I don't want to be a part of it wherever it might go. You head to Thrall and I'll go my own way." I answer him with a cold voice.

Koltira stares at me in bewilderment as I just summon my deathcharger right next to him and leave towards the tower where the goblin zeppelins stop.

The little bag at my waist thrums with every step of my steed.

'Lok'tar ogar' will never be my battle cry.


	44. The Kiss of Nightfall Chapter 14

_Chapter 14: _

I have only one place left to go to.

I don't want to become part of the Horde, yet no one else would accept me as I was clearly once a member of the Forsaken.

Seeing the ruins of Lordaeron after such a long time gives me a certain feeling of coming home, strange nonetheless.

The blue banner with the white mask on it welcomes me as it continues to shed the single bloody tear.

Although I deny making a vow to the so-called Warchief, Thrall, I assume that I would still be welcome here no matter what.

I make a brief stop in the throne room of the ruins above Undercity. The curdled blood of Terenas Menethil is still visible on the cold stone floor. A remnant never leaving this world behind...

Arthas is the one who took everything away from me. My father..., my mother..., my own life and the life of the only two real friends I have ever had. My hand wanders again to the bag tied to my belt on its own. I decide to travel by foot from here on out. And so I get off my deathcharger and dismiss it to the realm of shadows. Armageddon and the other nameless axe are fastened to my back crosswise.

The Forsaken of Undercity look at me with distrust. All they know is that I am an enemy to them, but even if they knew who I was before becoming a death knight, they would still not be too pleased to see me. Either way I can't blame them.

Yet something is different this time. My name is now Malevolence. It is the name the Lich King himself has given to me. And I will keep it to make it my own. I will not bail out again. This time I will accept what has happened and live with it.

This way the Lich King already knows the name of the person who will bring an end to his reign!

As I enter the Apothecarium on my way to the Royal Quarter, I hear how some of the Forsaken giggle in the typical mad fashion as they chat about making good progress with a new plague. Betrayal and deceit lurk everywhere...

Closing in on the destination I had been following for now I bluntly enter the imperial chamber where the Banshee Queen stands high upon her pedestal, keeping watch over the undead of Lordaeron.

The guards want to charge at me as soon as I enter the hall their queen reigns in, but she instantly raises her hand without a single word signalizing that everything is fine just how it is.

I take the right staircase up to get closer. On my way I pass by her advisor, the dreadlord Varimathras. The Nathrezim eagerly follows every step I take with his small eyes. I dealt with his kind before and I would never trust such a creature in any form.

The moment I stand right in front of the Banshee Queen my mind is cleared of any thought, no matter it being of my dead family or friends or the atrocities I had committed in the course of the last days or maybe even months.

Carefully I take the axe off my back and lay it down on the floor to my left. On the way over to Tirisfal I had decided on a worthy name for the blade it being Shadow's Edge.

Then I continue to take Armageddon off my back and use it as a support for a couple of seconds as I look up to the queen of the Forsaken.

Turning a bit to my right, I then raise the mighty weapon over my head as good as I can, the tip of the blade still pointing to the ground.

With a single powerful thrust downwards I drive the sword halfway into the stone floor.

The guards almost charge at me again for this sudden outburst of violent strength, but the Banshee Queen instead stops them with yet another brief gesture of her hand.

She is the only person in Azeroth that hates Arthas just as much as I do.

She is the only one that can comprehend.

The faces of Keira and Corren come to my mind as I look at my weapon. Taking a step away from it, I turn back to face the empress of the Forsaken.

She raises an eyebrow in anticipation of what to come. Still she hasn't spoken a single word since my arrival here.

Between my two weapons I fall onto my knees and bow to her.

Apparently she is pleased with the things she is seeing.

I know what I have done to myself and the people who were closest to me. I am also fully aware that I still have to grow if I want that day to come when I will have the chance to face and bring down the Lich King.

She knows how I don't have any intention of becoming part of the Horde as such, that I would never pledge my soul to an orcish warchief.

The Forsaken were the ones who once promised to be a new family for me and I turned them down in all my foolishness.

A cunning smile comes to the lips of the Banshee Queen.

She will be the last person that I will ever bow to.

Sylvanas Windrunner.


	45. Frozen Hearts Prologue

Frozen Hearts

_Prologue_

_A cold wind is carried over the walls and into the lively city of Dalaran. _

_The sky shines in a light reddish grey on this late afternoon only broken up by a few clouds up high._

_You can hear how the old mages command their apprentices to train and study in times as dire as these._

'_You are doing fine on fire magic but you mustn't neglect the frost, Siiri! Truly skilled mages have to be sufficiently trained in every aspect of the arcane! You have to be prepared properly for combat.' The archmage says to the aspiring young woman._

_The Violet Citadel behind them forms the beating heart of the city of magic. This central fortress of Dalaran houses various things, amongst them the Eye of Dalaran that is kept locked away in the Arcane Vault; the mysterious Chamber of Air as well as the vast library of the Kirin Tor. _

_Yet the Citadel does not only serve as a place of studying or a simple fortress, it is also meeting place of the Council of Six, six powerful and wise mages that form the leadership of Dalaran and its lands. Once their identities remained a secret for everybody even their own ranks, but these times have shifted away as some of them openly called out to be of the Council, approaching their own citizens. _

_Four people are currently in the lower halls._

_Rhonin Redhair, current leader of the Kirin Tor, is standing next to the side of his wife Vereesa Windrunner. She is a proud highelven woman with long silver hair, sister of the famed Sylvanas Windrunner now known as the dreaded Banshee Queen. Although not a member of the Council, she is the leader of the Silver Covenant and rightfully taking part in this gathering. _

_The other two people in this room are archmage Modera, one of the two surviving members of the Six of the Second War era and archmage Aethas Sunreaver, the blood elf that grants the members of the Horde sanctuary in Dalaran. _

_No one except for these four people could tell who or where the other three members of the Council are, but most likely not even they know their exact whereabouts._

_The meeting today is addressed to various things. Only most recently the ruins of an old titan facility had been uncovered in the far north of the Stormpeaks, a massif in the snow-covered north-east of Northrend finally revealed what had been hidden for eons. Yet the mages of the Kirin Tor are not at all happy about what had been awakened in these halls of the old days. Alarmed because it seems one of the five old goods makes his move from there, they prepare to face this creature of insanity and malice with their full force. _

_In the tales of old it is said that these hideous creatures once ruled over the whole of Azeroth long before even the Titans tread on the planes of the planet to bring order to this world. They were little more than parasites dwelling on the wild elementals roaming the planet's surface. But as the Titans came they were banished down into the depths of the earth, imprisoned into the heart of the planet never to return. Yet even though their imprisonment it is said that these wretched entities could still influence the life of this world but had not enough power to cause any more direct damage to it. But as time passes by so it seems that their shackles are loosening a bit with every day._

_There is only little evidence that creatures as these old gods really exist, many think of them only as a myth, a legend, a gruesome fairy tale to scare the children at most. Yet the Kirin Tor have more than enough reason to be concerned._

_This threat emerging from the core of the planet not enough, the Lich King is also taking action again after the events in the eastern plaguelands. His armies are finally preparing to move out and conquer what little is left of the world. _

_Dalaran was always a private community, looking at strangers with distrust, not letting them stay in their city for long or not even letting them enter at all. Yet many things have changed in the past couple of months..._

_The streets are busy and people of all races are everywhere, from small gnomish warriors up to tall tauren shamans. The sudden variety is astounding and not at all familiar to those used to the quite lifestyle of the City of Magic._

_The Alliance as well as the Horde are now guests in the city of the Kirin Tor as the time of need has come._

_Not long ago Dalaran had been moved by some of the strongest magic their archmages could provide._

_As it once it lay dormant to it surrounding in a green valley to the south of the Kingdom of Lordaeron and to the west of the Alterac Mountains, it now it floats high above the Crystalsong Forest in the middle of the continent Northrend._

_From the towers of Dalaran you can see far into the frozen heart of Icecrown, watching over the towers and gates made of purest Saronite, winding through the valleys of carved out ice and stone. _

_The village of Ymirheim is located in the center of this broken land, nestled around the tallest peak remaining it serves as the home of the strongest ymirjar serving Arthas. They are a Nordic race of tall grown humans, always ready to fight to prove their strength and pride. They challenge each other and fight till death for their dark lord and own brutal culture. Blinded by the Lich King's unholy ways, they search to be blessed with strength and immortality. Only those that prove worthy and victorious amongst their own kin are allowed to live in the center of Icecrown, closest to their master. The losers on the other hand are revived by the Val'kyr and become nothing more than mindless slaves to their ruthless king._

_In the far west of the glacier there lies the Fleshwerks, as these pits is called. There the flesh giants and abominations are created to enrich the undead army with their notorious and brute strength._

_And finally, directly off to the west, the Icecrown Citadel lies at close quarters to Dalaran._

_It is the large blackened stronghold of the Lich King, built winding around the Frozen Throne where once the armor containing the tormented soul of Ner'zhul was placed in a block of ice as hard as diamonds..., the armor Arthas is now wearing._

_No one knows what horrors might dwell inside the bleak walls of the Citadel._

_All that is known is that Arthas has his lieutenants and only the strongest of minions close by his side. _

_The lesser ones roam the valleys below the unholy stronghold, protecting their master and preparing for the final assault on the world of the living. There are hundreds of thousands of them as the moaning of the ghouls filling the air around night-time, reminding the Kirin'Tor of the imminent thread, looming just barely out of reach._

_There are two known entrances into the Citadel. One is in Icecrown heavily guarded you can approach it only from the north. The other one is a gate at the border of Dragonblight, known as Wrathgate. _

_At night you can hear screams coming from the depths of what might lie beyond it. _

_Forces of the Alliance as well as the Horde are positioned in a frail unity directly in front of it, protecting the world of the living as we know it. _

_Well prepared to face everything that could come out of it._

_Well prepared to face despair itself._

_Well prepared to face death... _


	46. Frozen Hearts Chapter 1

_Chapter 1: _

The sun is shining down from the heaven, spreading its pleasant warmth across the countryside as the birds are singing melodies on this beautiful summer afternoon in eastern Lordaeron.

Luckily for me and the town as a whole the small lake going directly through our little plot of land offers refreshment for everybody.

The rays of the sun reflect on the surface of the water letting it look sparkly and glitter like liquid gold.

The warm summer breeze compliments the atmosphere perfectly as it playfully jumps through the trees nearby.

Just as usual I'm lying directly at the water daydreaming about this or that...

Every day I admire my how, think about how great this place is and that I never want to leave it, no matter what might come. Northdale is my home and I love it! It makes me want to stay here forever.

The moment as I hear someone approaching I hurry to sit up straight. As I turn around I recognize our neighbor, Mister Browman. Admittedly it's a bit of a let-down as I've hoped for somebody else but it would unjust to really think this way. He is about as old as my father a kind man and owner of the few sawmills north of town.

With a friendly smile he greets me as he passes by. Sometimes, when I was younger, he used to bring me small presents. Sometimes when they had very little to do some of the workers, including Mr. Browman himself, started carving little animals or other figures from spare chunks of wood, for their children. He on the other hand has no family of his own, never had and therefore he just started making them for me instead. My father was very angry at him at first and I'd not fully understand why. But it's okay now.

I wave at him as he passes between me and the house of my family and heads for his own home. He returns my greetings before I then turn back to the water and after a moment or two just fall backwards into the green grass.

But come to think of it, if Mr. Browman is already home, where is dad? What is taking him so long today?

On the other hand, I guess I shouldn't worry too much. My mother always tries to soothe me when I get worried and besides, dad says so himself. She then tells me that my father is a very strong man and that he knows what to do if he gets into a fight.

Calming myself I close my eyes for maybe a minute, yet still it was enough for me to fall asleep for a good while.

As I wake up from my slumber to the sound of a familiar voice in my ear, I open my eyes and look right into the face of bearded man with long dark brown hair. The expression he carries is stern, the armor of a light grey and producing sounds with even the smallest movement he makes.

I'm still drowsy for a moment, but after I realize who I am looking at, I try my best to quickly jump to my feet without staggering.

Within an instance the man starts to smile at me as kneels down, he is a lot taller than I am.

"Father!" I call out "What took you so long?" the sound of my voice a bit reprehensive.

My father replies with his usual calm and utmost warm voice "Everything is fine, Marc. Just a little extra round through Corin's Crossing. Making sure everybody's fine just like us up here."

He gives me a hug, pressing me against the cold metal. The sudden chill surprised me on such a warm day.

"Do you have any idea what mom made for dinner today, son? I'm starving..." The way he talks and pronounces the words is clear and free of any dialect, although he always loosens up a bit when talking to his family alone.

The people of this area respect him as a strong and kind man, as an authority. And rightfully so! He is a paladin, a member of the Silver Hand.

As he gets back up to his feet again we walk onward over to our home. Happily I follow by his side. And I'm sure that mom has everything already set up, just as every day.

"Tomorrow is my day off, Marc. What do you want to do?" He asks me with a smile before he opens the door. I take my time to think about this question. I'm sure I'd still have a lot of time to answer it until tomorrow.

"Sarah, honey?" My father asks blindly into the room after opening the door. She comes rushing down the stairs immediately, hugs my father and gives him the usual kiss as a greeting. She is a beautiful woman with dark blonde hair and clear grey eyes. She is only a bit smaller than my father and rather slim.

Usually her mood is great, she is always smiling and spreading happiness, but today something is different. Instead of her outgoing appeal she whispers something to my father and even the smile on his lips disappears in an instant.

"Already?" He asks in a low voice as if somebody had taken something precious away. The expression in his eyes showing sadness and fear, feelings I have never seen of him before, let alone imagined they would exist at all.

The world around though look just as usual. Dinner is already waiting for us on the table and after my father changed into something more comfortable to wear we sit down at the table and try to eat.

The bread tastes wonderful, just like every time my mother decides to make some. It is a bit sweeter than the bread of the baker, but that is what I love most about it. But still, something about this evening feels terribly wrong. I cannot even swallow the second bite I have taken.

My father and mother do not eat anything at all. They sit a lot closer together today as he only holds onto her hand while she is crying silent tears. She looks down to the floor, trying to hide it from me, but I had noticed some time ago already. I decided not mention it openly and just gave my father questioning look from over the table.

"Should I tell him, honey?" He asks my mother as even his voice is about fail him. Unable to respond with words, she only nods with her head.

"Well, Marc... We knew this day would have to come sooner or later..." He takes a deep breath "Your mother received a note today telling her that she would have to return to Dalaran for a while."

'A note?' I ask myself. I didn't see anybody coming to our house today. I must have fallen asleep for longer than I had imagined. The urge to ask why she had to go there formed many questions in my mind, but I am too startled to say anything as it dawned on me what this actually meant.

"That means for us... that we will have to leave Northdale behind. Only a few days ago a messenger from the Capital City visited us too." I remember that guy at least he came here during last week. He was wearing almost the same armor as my father usually does.

"He told me that I could get a position in the royal guard of King Menethil II. He also informed me that we could get a home in the town of Brill directly north the Capital City if I should take this place."

My throat feels tied up. I can't say even a single word. First my mother is taken away from me all of a sudden, then the place to live I love the most within mere minutes afterwards?

We sit at the dinner table for while without saying a single further word, none of us eats anything from that point on.

After some time I ask if I could stand up and go outside until nightfall. My father nods quietly, while still looking at my sobbing mother.

The sun is still high on the firmament, although the color of the sky is already turning to a deep red.

I sit there for hours staring at the clouds doing nothing else.

Why is this all happening? Everything was fine until this evening, and now within minutes they told me everything would change.

I roll around in the grass so I can look at my home here in the right angle. A sole tear forms and rolls down from my right eye. Right in the middle of my cheek it stops and turns cold, as cold as ice. As I look up into the sky again, I see snow falling.

This is the moment when I realize, that I am only dreaming.

I touch my face with my right hand.

There really is a drop of ice hanging from my face. I remove it from my cheek with my fingers, hearing it crumble between the fingertips of my black Saronite gloves.

This is what I hate about being undead. You may not have to sleep anymore, but sometimes, if everything is quiet and you feel safe, your mind just wanders off...

The snowfall around has been increasing dramatically in the meantime.

I'm sitting on my deathcharger Abigore with my blade Armageddon tied tightly to my back, the axe Shadow's Edge fastened to the back of my steed.

We are on a mountain ridge in the northern areas of Icecrown. From here you can overlook everything if the sky is clear. But now everything is slowly disappearing behind a veil of snow. To the west there should a building visible called Aldur'Thar, basically it is a gate with a large watchtower on top of it, also known by the name 'The Gate of Desolation'. Although there is little left to see now except for its grey spire, standing fast between the whirls of snow.

To the east of me there you find the snow-covered fields known as Sindragosa's Fall. It is supposed that the mighty dragon Sindragosa, former prime-consort of Malygos miserably died there. Now it's only a large open pit pointing out that the rumors are true slightly to its south; the rumors that Arthas himself has raised her as his own companion, the Frost Queen, Empress to the all the frost wyrms of the Lich King.

To the south I can see few remaining spires of Ymirheim reaching from the snow. I despise the ymirjar, every single one of their kind! They are such ignorant fools! None of them ever survived a fight against me and they call themselves the pride of the Lich King! And still the rest of them run blindly into death because none of them knows common fear. Each and every one of that village has never lost in combat with their own kin. And if one of them is defeated, none of the others will acknowledge that they don't have a chance. They are such a meddlesome folk.

Yet what lies behind Ymirheim is far more interest to me: the Icecrown Citadel as it winds up around the Frozen Throne.

In there he is, he sits waiting for his enemies to strike so he can turn them into ghouls and make them his own.

In there he is, he sits waiting for his doom.

At the foot of the mountain I'm standing on is a large open space festering with ghouls and skeletons, ready to move into combat as soon as his will demands it. Some officers of the Kor'kron refer to this place simply as the bombardment. A name that becomes clear once you have monitored it for a while. Every day hundreds of soldiers fly over this short area blasting holes into the ground with their cobalt bombs constructed by engineers just like myself.

Many things have happened until today, great and terrible alike. Many people died so that the few still alive could come this far as we have ventured now. Some of the more unlucky ones are surely down there in between all those ghouls right now, waiting to be blown to bits and reassembled in the Fleshwerks .

At the moment this is an all-out war against the Scourge. The Horde as well as the Alliance are gathering their troops together for the final push. But not only they are mobilizing everything they have. To the north-east of my current location the Argent Crusade is having a Tournament to determine the strongest and most capable of warriors to stand against the Lich King in the final charge on the Citadel.

The effort Tirion Fordring is making might be a key to victory, but as chances are it is just an opportunity to show our world how hapless most of these so-called warriors participating in the tournament really are. I heard they run around with lances jostling each other off their horses. To me it all sounds like a large playground.

It is a shame that I plan on heading there too. If nothing else I will show them to end this pointless playing around, only gambling for time and instead begin with the assault we all have been waiting for so long!

Yet the first great victories have already been achieved. After Naxxramas had disappeared from the sky of the eastern plaguelands, it spotted hovering above Dragonblight, where it lay siege to the outposts of Horde and Alliance alike.

Only a few weeks later though a group of strong men and women were sent into the necropolis to bring an end to Kel'Thuzad reign. Members of every faction and even renegades like myself were included in this little army, our number in the hundreds.

About twenty of us were able to make it to the Lich in the end. The fight was straining and only few of us survived. In the end a total of seven people overcame the former sorcerer. Those few... They are the real warriors, me amongst them. But none of ever received the tribute we deserved. They sent us in to die for their cause, but as we survived, our greatest price was probably our life.

I can't recall what happened to the phylactery of Kel'Thuzad, if it was destroyed or handed over to Tirion Fordring or somebody else. To be honest, I did not care too much about it. If we were able to kill him once, we would manage to do so again. And I? I took my revenge on the Lich for my own, but more importantly: I also was able to kill Anub'Rekhan and Noth the Plaguebringer. Both of them had been a thorn in my side. And it brought ease to my savage soul for a while as I stood above their motionless bodies, but still it did not award any real satisfaction.

Another great victory was achieved in the Borean Tundra in the far west of Northrend. The head of the blue flight, Malygos, was gathering strength to attack the Kirin Tor in Dalaran on his own behalf. After his beloved Sindragosa had been revivified by Arthas, the aspect of magic slowly grew insane. He accused the Kirin Tor for her death at first, but by the time this thought spread and he ultimately swore revenge for her on all living beings which use magic in whatever way. He wanted to protect the world from further harm, but his growing insanity and the pain blinded him, sending him on a reckless killing spree. Because of this the Wyrmrest Accord was created, an alliance of the four other dragonflights, to bring an end to the crusade of Malygos.

Eventually the Blue was defeated and killed by Alexstrasza, the mistress of the red flight and the only one of the aspects that could stand up against Malygos, for Ysera is still dreaming in the Emerald Dream standing against the growing corruption and Nozdormu is fighting against the eternal dragonflight.

The whereabouts of Neltharion, better known as Deathwing, are still unknown, though many believe him as dead. And either way he surely would not be welcome in the Wyrmrest Accord.

But not enough... recently a large Titan facility was opened in the north of the Stormpeaks, releasing more anguish upon this world. Over the past months everybody thought that there was no way to get into this place called Ulduar. But now, only days ago, the gates opened on their own, no one knowing why this was happening. But it didn't take long until the first iron dwarves came charging out of the gates attacking every living under the 'curse of flesh' near the entrance. Only a small group around the dwarf Brann Bronzebeard survived the onslaught and with the help of Kirin Tor they were able to set up a magic sphere directly at the entrance keeping the iron dwarves at bay.

But slowly as my thoughts begin chasing each other so does the snow flurry around me turns into a blizzard.

The wind is howling in my ears, spreading the artificial feeling of cold.

Only moments later you can only see a few couple of meters ahead of you.

This is when I finally turn Abigore around and I head towards the pass leading to the Argent Tournament.

As I ride through the dense snowstorm, I think of Frostmourne once again. Since the day I vowed my loyalty to Sylvanas Windrunner, the image of the sword kept haunting me every once in a while, maybe a single time a week.

But now, as I draw closer to Arthas, I see it more often again.

I know fully well where it is - at the top of the spire.

It feels my presence drawing closer to it again and calls out for me, treacherous little thing it is.

Yet as I touch the bag tied to my belt, the image vanishes immediately.

I know that Frostmourne is a dangerous weapon and still I want to wield it as my own.

It is not any different from the Ashbringer.

It has a mind and soul of its own.

Both these weapons only toy with their masters.


	47. Frozen Hearts Chapter 2

_Chapter 2: _

Soon I will arrive at the playgrounds of the Argent Tournament.

I made a promise to show up here today. Still not completely sure why I agreed to this at all, but well it does not matter and they are members of my guild after all if that means anything at all.

After becoming part of the Forsaken again, I was also allowed to travel again freely to Orgrimmar, Thunderbluff and Silvermoon. I guess most of the guards of those cities assumed I'm a member of the Horde, not questioning my whereabouts. Knowing I would get in trouble if I tried to take that illusion away from them, I just let them believe what they wanted to. Although I have to say the orcs were those that gave me the hardest time not to kill one or another of them. It's their insolence paired with stupidity that drives me insane, not forgetting they are the ones that had the most distrust still left, keeping the closest watch over me by far.

And although not all of the people I met were as stupid as the grunts of Orgrimmar but I kept to myself for the longest time and stayed the loner I wanted to be. Even now I consider myself more of a lone wolf than a member of this 'guild' that I joined after a while. Still I have to admit I began liking at least some of them by now. I don't know if this is a sign of growing weakness or not. But still, I can't fully trust any of them and should come down to that – not even myself.

I met the first few of them during the time when the Horde and Alliance started their counterattack on Naxxramas.

I can't recall how many people we were exactly as we entered the necropolis, but one thing is for sure, there were far too many weaklings among us that were only to get in my way. I'm sure blade a few of them down along the way by accident just because they were dumb enough to run up straight in front of me in a fight.

The roughly twenty people that reached Kel'Thuzad would have been enough to clear the whole of Naxxramas easily. At least this way we had been a lot faster.

But well, our group was the first that was sent in there. None of the 'great leaders' thought that we would manage to fulfill the task they had burdened us with, let alone surviving longer than an hour in there or even clearing a single of the four wings.

Either this little part of our group had a considerable strength to it or the troops of the former necromancer had turned weak over the years.

Still seven people that survived in the end aren't that many. I remember how we had to kill a few of these former companions in the fight against the Lich. He struck them down with his shadow magic and revived them instantly as ghouls, tearing their soul out as an offering to his master.

Right from the start of our impossible assignment I noticed her, a female bloodelf with a strong emerald glow in her eyes, the ebony hair reaching to her shoulders. During our venture through Naxxramas I found out eventually that her name was Cassiopheia. The nagging little creature by her side, an imp, gave away that she was a warlock from the very first minute. A person I could relate to.

"Shut up, Yaztip." She hissed at the perky little demon that strangely reminded me of Pipfip.

There were also other warlocks around, but none of them survived until the very end. Each and every one of them was eventually crushed, split open or even devoured by his or her own spells if the person was pathetic enough.

As we entered the necropolis the group quickly divided itself into a Horde and an Alliance side, whilst the voluntary leaders of each part were the only ones willing to talking to their counterpart. After a long stretched out argument where we should be heading first, the group finally split up. The number of Alliance members was a good bit larger than the one of the Horde so they decided to first go into the abomination wing as the leaders had called it. The Horde on the other hand blindly entered an area that was covered with spider webs of various different sizes.

For the longest time I had my fun by just standing there watching how both groups slowly departed to the wing of their choice thinking about what I should do. Whether I should take a wing on my own or just follow one of their parties, but before I could come to a decision what I would do, one of the Horde members dragged me back into line. He was a strong grown tauren warrior, angrily mumbling something incomprehensible. I didn't understand what he was saying and I can only assume that it was better for his health. But then again... I'm also partially guilty, mainly for letting myself been dragged off like that.

Being forced into group didn't hold my fighting spirit back though and we quickly made our way through this part of Naxxramas. After we had killed a few more of the surprisingly larger spiders in the first room we turned left into a short hallway which opened up into another larger hall.

From the very start of our journey you could exactly tell who would be able to survive and who not.

Although I'm not sure if my judgment might have been a bit too hastily passed as at first I was a bit irritated by all the bears and lions running around our group and quite frankly it dawned on me only a good bit later as one of the many animals began to talk. I had never fought alongside a druid before that day.

Yet all of my thoughts up to this point had been instantly rendered asunder the moment the large doorway had parted. The room it revealed was nothing much but a large circle with green ooze typically found in the Undercity in a moat going around it, yet to my utmost delight there was something else in there with us: a giant bug sitting at the other side of the room listening to the name Anub'Rekhan, the crypt lord that had stabbed me and thus ended my life as a warlock.

Not a single clear thought left under the sea of raging emotions paired with the anticipation of bittersweet kiss offered by revenge in my mind I charged at it without a single moment of hesitation, knowing that if I couldn't even manage to kill a giant insect like him, I would not last nearly five seconds against Arthas himself.

Unfortunately this was also the moment when the first members of our group died. You can think of it as my fault if you so desire but I will reject any such claims. It was their own decision to follow me and rush blindly into their demise!

The few poor fools that came rushing after me, attacking the creature head on just like I did without knowing who their enemy was to begin with were lost the second they set foot into the dark halls of Kel'Thuzad's homestead anyhow. Now that they followed me so eagerly into their not-so-sudden doom, without even questioning once why the rest of our group had remained at the entrance of the room, all that was left for them was to speak some prayers for our forlorn souls.

Easily the biggest mistake was of them to treat me as equal, sealing their own fates in the process.

To no surprise the attacks of the nerubian came quick and the strikes of his claw missed me only by a few inches impaling one of the idiots who came with me. The creature was indeed just as fast as I had remembered it to be.

But on the other hand, thanks to the huge body of his once you were on its back, it was almost completely helpless. The only thing it could do at all to fend you off was sending out a swarm of locusts that seemed to live under the huge chitin plates of its back.

Fortunately it seemed they didn't like dead meat.

In the end they turned out to be not much more than a nuisance for me... but for the others? From the corner of my eye I saw how they flew over to the next best orcs or blood elves and nibbled the flesh right off them.

Filled with a distinct satisfaction I drove my sword into the back of the giant insect. Damn, that chitin was tough to crack, though worth every bit of effort invested. I could hear the sound of his body bursting open for days to come.

Anub'Rekhan collapsed the moment half of my sword had vanished inside of him and a dark violet, almost black liquid emerged out of the open wound from under his carapace.

During those joyous seconds sadly also the first bothersome people around me began to really notice me and my fighting capabilities. Of course was it inevitable but this way the peace and quiet for me ended a lot sooner.

Well... it had to happen at some point.

As we continued onwards through the rest of this wing there were little to no real challenges awaiting us. We faced a strange witch apprentice some rooms later was always yelling around but in the end she collapsed without even putting up a decent fight and the spider at the end was only a nuisance if you'd ask me, spraying its webs here, there... everywhere throughout the room.

At that time we still didn't know what had happened to the Alliance part of the original group, but we assumed that they were still busy with the abominations, had run off in fear of their lives or were dead already, either of the three sounded convincing to me.

So... our group leader pressed, said something about not wanting to waste precious time. I still wonder up to this day why he insisted in rushing into his own end so enduringly. But at least he did not fail to reach my expectations and just as he lay dead only few minutes later, in a different wing of Naxxramas chewed apart by bunch of ghouls, we a whole were already standing in front of Noth the Plaguebringer. How nice of all these fiends to be so neatly bunched up, close together.

The moment I first met him on the field in Havenshire, I didn't know his name, at that time he was only a loud insulting old necromancer for me. He yelled so many things, called me so many names and issued so many threats but never ever showed even a small part of his pretentious power.

The corners of the room we had been lead into were filled with piles of bones as tall as a tauren. Noth continued to raise a little army of skeletons as a welcoming party for us, though carefully watching to only revive one undead at a time.

As I found it to be typical for him he offered many-a idle threats over the whole duration of this 'fight', if you even consider calling it that. His grand powers turned out to be just another disappointment amongst the ranks of Kel'Thuzad. No kind of magical barrier could help him and so he fell to our blades and spells within one or two minutes after the skeletons had all been struck down.

Nevertheless even this time a few idiots managed to die! Questioning myself instead of those in charge where the Kor'kron had managed to find this many useless fools we ventured deeper into this quarter of Naxxramas. Another quick idea I had on that day would be that we had not been sent here to fight against the lich's forces at all, but instead to quietly die off and increase their numbers as a kind of appeasement.

Yet even though I could not think of a single orc that was supposed to be intelligent enough to arrange something as sinister but also daft to core to think one was able to negotiate with a being created from the malice of generations upon generations before us, still the faint taste of betrayal remained with me to see this day through and it decided to linger ever since.

Unfortunately for our host, the rest of the wing which was infested with vermin like huge maggots and other strange insects did not prove in any way entertaining for us or for him. But more importantly as we fought our way through these open halls I noticed how some of the other members of our group kept strangely looking out for me, most of these random people I would get to know later on as members of my 'guild'.

At that on time though I only had eyes for Cassiopheia. I couldn't name it and quite frankly still can't, her whole appearance was just... thrilling. The smooth ebony hair, her merciless emerald eyes, paired with the pristine skin. She was just annoyed as I was whilst we fought our way through the dark hallways waiting for challenger worthy enough to face our true strength. The expression on her face as we hunted down elusive shadows and rotten ghouls was never changing cold and kissed by the cruelty of this world.

Something about her fascinated me. She was so much alike the one part of my soul that I so willingly fed to the shadows that it immediately took me in and never let me go. But as in the back of my head reality was falling apart and rebuilding itself it also already began catching up to me, forming one paradox after the other. Framed by the faces haunting me from my past, I tried to dispel everything I was thinking and not thinking about, concerning any possibility of her and me.

I know it's laughable.., a Forsaken and a blood elf, but neither my senses nor I didn't know any better. Should it have even been that particular kind of affection that continued to influence my perception at the time... Without doubt it helped me that my mind cleared itself of anything except for the blind rage, anger and a thriving thirst for revenge every time we approached something remotely close to a 'real enemy' inside the necropolis.

Whatever they were supposed to be there was no time left for feelings.

A rather surprising amount of people survived this wing, leaving us with a group of the staggering size of twenty-one. Making our way back over to the entrance hall we also stumbled into the pitiful rest of the Alliance group ... that what was still left of it at least.

Their last five members immediately claimed to have successfully cleared the abomination and the military wing of the necropolis, in both of which they had suffered heavy losses. And the few remaining, four humans and a single dwarf, were all covered with spurts of various different shades of blood and a strange green fluid to lighten up the mix. You couldn't really believe them and their ridiculous claims, but hell, who was I to judge?

Our ranks had been thinned drastically as well thanks to the insane witchdoctor Heigan and his exploding floor as well as that strange mutated fungus in the last room of these corrupted halls. At least we had gotten rid of most of the dead weight we had carried around for the longest time.

And there we were... exhaustion catching up to the living amongst our ranks, the horror of what they had faced creeping into the minds of those without enough resolve - ever so delightful. The spirit of the group slowly syphoning away, our whole venture came to a sudden stop now that we had cleared out all the lesser minions and were to face the lich in its own quarters. So... the discussion began. What should we do, should we flee like cowards, should we stand our ground and face death, destroyer of worlds on our own or should we call for backup – resting all our hope into this last flicker of chance that the high command may actually send out others to our aid. Those living amongst us were torn and scared to move onwards at first but the fickle glory that might await quickly changed their thoughts and turned the greedy little hearts around.

In the end it was a group of twenty-five people that took the teleporter to the upper level, feeling assured that now the Lich would not be able to call for any backup from his troops. A single troll, in possession of his right mind left the necropolis. He said he would call for back-up but I as well as far too many others lay no faith into his shallow words. And it did matter not...

As we entered the upper level, we found ourselves in a giant hall completely frozen over and covered with a thick layer of snow on top.

The feeling ones began shivering intensely, though I can't say that I have felt anything at all up there and I know the chill of a Lich cares not for your numbed senses.

The bones of a dragon lay scattered throughout the room, baiting the sole dwarf in our midst to rush over to one of them ridden by greed as they seemed flawless in his eyes.

Whatever he said might have been the truth and they were indeed incredibly valuable but what good does it do for you once you are dead? In fact they were so valuable the dwarf had to pay with his own life for only trying to touch them once.

A sharp icicle pierced the chest of the little one only few steps before he could reach out and grab one of the treasured bones. And upon his death a blue mist rose around him hiding away how he died in front of us, as the bones began connecting with each other. A current of air emerged out of nothingness inside the room and as it grazed the outside, growing more intense with each passing second the bones slowly were taken up with it into the air.

It did not take too long until the skeleton of a dragon had reassembled itself right before of our eyes - a frostwyrm without doubt and a fine specimen too.

Ever since the day of the Scarlet Harvest I admired these beings, the majestic and relentless approach, the fearless stare of empty eyes underlined by the brute force of the frost breath turning solid bone into pure ice. Unfortunately this time this creature didn't seem to take as kindly to me as the one in the eastern plaguelands did, though I guess we were on different sides by then. With a loud, shallow roar from the undead dragon's throat it announced its assault on us.

Again, I already knew my enemy and what to expect, giving me the opportunity to charge directly at it, leaving the others behind.

Still this particular frostwyrm emerged to be a lot stronger than the last that I had seen and proved to be far more of an enemy to me than Anub'Rekhan or Noth could have ever dreamed of being.

Sharp shards of ice came raining down upon us, making everything that much more difficult to handle and coordinate. The claws of the undead dragon able to rip apart even the sturdiest armors, leaving only the single option of us dodging his attacks at all cost.

Thinking about it from my point of view now, I think I was more afraid that my armor could get damaged than that I could lose my wretched life. It most certainly wasn't the lust for blood or the urge to kill that had taken over my mind and body but I'm almost sure everything happened on its own. The fight was over so fast for me, blurring the edges of time as Armageddon hit the dragon hard over and over again, shattering its ribs one by one. It was difficult enough to get to them without losing your head, just as a tauren warrior had demonstrated by running blindly up to the side of the creature.

But finally after a long and straining fight, the blue core forming the dragons 'heart' lay wide open for an attack. It resisted the relentless assault for a while, but after giving it time and more of a thrash beating the chaotic flames of our warlocks and the blows of our weapons destroyed the orb of ice and shadow, shattering it into non-existence.

A couple of people had died during the fight, ripped apart by shards of ice or frozen solid due to the breath of the wyrm. A single priest even killed himself... he did not concentrate on his spells and died from his own attack as it went miserably wrong.

The strong will survive and the weak will come to pay the price, the promised blood for the shadows. Now the moment had finally come to fight an opponent weary of this fact and able to bend the very essence of the arcane to his will...

As we cautiously entered his domain he looked eagerly upon us, his beady black eyes filled with the pleasure of the upcoming slaughter. Yet the moment his eyes met mine, he stopped his mad laughter and appeared startled by my presence.

"You...? It can't be..." He whispered these words, leaving me to only guess if he had really spoken them or whether my mind was fooling me. I could not and up to this day I still cannot tell. His hesitation only lasted for a second a brief moment until he focused again and shouted at us like as maniacal as before that this would be our certain end.

"Perish and prepare for eternal servitude to your new master!"

Kel'Thuzad had been a powerful necromancer in life, a fearsome strength which he had taken to multiply now as a lich, but no matter his capabilities his physical body remained to be frail and brittle. A clean hit from my sword would have easily split him in half.

Of course he was aware of this all the time and thus protected by a magic shield, repelling every physical attack we would muster.

The fight against him proved to be as bothersome as I had it suspected. And we did not even get to fight him right from the beginning! As we entered the room we found ourselves gazing upon the six portals leading to the Frozen Wastes of Icecrown. I was such a fool that I didn't remember them...

The lich smiled at us and with the wave of his hand an uncountable swarm of skeletons came through the portals attacking us to defend their master.

They weren't too strong physically but their numbers were intimidating almost overwhelming us.

He laughed out loud every time one of our group died to either his spells or minions, raising him as a ghoul to his side immediately.

But even worse..: Once the cannon fodder had been dealt with, Kel'Thuzad summoned four huge Crypt Lords to his side, all looking pretty much alike Anub'Rekhan. They were also equally fast to this other nerubian we had met before, which caused quite the trouble and cost more lives.

Yet as it all came down to the wire when we were on the brink of being defeated, I and two other people charged the lich head on in a do-or-die move.

As I had rightfully predicted, the body of the lich was fragile, protected only by his magic shield. Leaving me the more surprised as his barrier was shattered with ease. Perhaps he had overstrained himself with the creatures he had summoned, which would be the only rational explanation for us having this much trouble with such a glass cannon.

Our swords and mighty warhammers hit the magic shield hard, pounding down on the outer shell as one of the two others with me was instantly trapped in a large block of ice as a ring of frost emerged from the Lich's wake. The poor bastard froze to death in only a couple of seconds.

Yet this was also the moment when we took the upper hand in this fight. The magic barrier broke with the next strike of Armageddon, breaking through the invisible shell.

A single swing of a sword later the so-called mighty lich and servant of the Lich King, Kel'Thuzad 'Lord over Frost and Shadow', had been reduced to a pile of dust and idle bones. The remaining nerubians wisely fled in fear of their lives as they saw what had happened to their master.

It was a day of victory and losses, but more importantly for me... it was a day of sweet revenge and baleful defeat alike. I started questioning myself and my beliefs from long ago after defeating Kel'Thuzad. Had my vision been so clouded as a warlock or why had he been so... weak that day? I had taken him as incredibly strong, far beyond my own imagination, kissed by immortality and blessed by his king, but once the day had come that I was to fight him and even on his own grounds, he solely relied on his minions. Not able to defend himself properly alone, he died leaving me to assume I had overestimated the former necromancer the whole time.

From the day on after bringing down one of the strongest servants of the Lich King thus far a small group of people, mostly which I had met on this venture referred to me as 'insane' for my ferocious style of fighting. Those that heard my name started to fear me... it was all panning out well.

But in the end, only a few people knew the names of the ones that survived through this day and hardly anybody connected me to those people. Being titled 'the Insane' was more than enough reason for the simple peasant to crumble in fear of my sight.

None of us became famous for what we had done and the swift glory promised to those who had died never existed in the first place, though I was more than glad about it.

Amongst the seven people that had survived the fight against the Lich there were three that I should get to know a lot better not too much later on.

Cassiopheia, the bloodelf warlock and the one I had noticed from the very start, a tauren druid called Zula and an orcish shaman proudly wielding two axes answering to the name Renku.

All three of them are very capable fighters and stout souls to be reckoned with as the time to reshape this world as ours draws closer.

The elven warlock with the emerald eyes was the first of them to approach me after our assignment was officially over. Her voice was astonishingly dark for an elf, but the more it reflected her strong character. I can't tell why I agreed to join forces with them if I try to rethink it now but I would most likely have assumed I would find strength among them, to grow further and find my final foe.

As more time passed I got to know more and more people from this 'guild' as they called it. I don't want to name all of them, but there were a few that I really began to like.

On the other side I was and still am to this very day, a lone wolf prowling my own prey.

Most of those I met turned out to be capable fighters. True, yet quickly a very different feeling emerged. The deepest layers of my mind and souls began yelling at me like the fiendish voice of the Lich King himself: "They are holding you back!"

And I listened to it. I don't want to get too involved with people to begin with, for their sake and for my own, so the calling found a ground to settle on and steadily grow.

"You will become my force of retribution. Where you tread, doom will follow. Go now and claim your destiny, death knight."

The Lich King himself once had filled my ears with these words. And I am still too afraid that this might turn to become sudden reality. But then I also want to become doom! Doom to Arthas, his lieges and the Scourge as a whole. I want to be my own force of retribution!

Though I know I still have a long way in front of me...

This has become my path and that I have to travel alone.


	48. Frozen Hearts Chapter 3

_Chapter 3: _

I follow a narrow ice-clad pass near the foot of a mountain to my left as draw closer to my destination.

It leads directly past the large crater in the ice where once the Frost Queen Sindragosa found a tormented resting place. Curiosity demands that I take a short look over the edge as I ride by. Down in the pit necromancers are at working hard, trying to create more offspring of the former blue dragon matriarch. And they are at least somewhat successful as every now and there little splinters and scrapes of bone find together to create new un-life.

It always struck me, not knowing whether I should laugh about it or pity the little dragon whelps that are put together like this. These things even hatch from strange blue-glowing dragon eggs, leaving me no idea at all how those necromancers do this.

The little wyrms are already fairly aggressive. As I ride by, two of them begin following me, set on trying to attack me. I hit them on their little skulls with my fist, sending them tumbling backwards and fall to the ground again.

It's strange kind of question to pose but I wonder if the necromancers intend on letting them at that size or if they have some kind of spell up their sleeve to let them grow, to let them become like a live dragon.

There are many stupid little ideas I come up with as I ride on, thinking about it for another short moment before I finally clear my mind from any of it. Hesitant to acknowledge any of my own thoughts I shake my head and faintly whisper to myself "What nonsense..."

The fool I am I left my guard down during these few seconds but despite necromancers near Sindragosa's Fall having noticed me some time ago already, they rather kept on working like machines; plain puppets on a string dancing for their cruel, unholy king just like I once did too.

Venturing on I soon come to an open area a few smaller frostwyrms circling above my head.

It looks like they have been follow me for a while, at least since the moment to blizzard ceased away, but now they turn around, flying off back into the bleak sky and head for their new home in the citadel. Quickly it become clear why and it wasn't because of sloth or any like that. The moment I reach the slope leading to the tournament grounds, that whole area reveals itself to be heavily guarded, filled with knights, priests and other fine, probably holy, warriors. Even though the numbers of his armies is vast, the Lich King is not that foolish enough to send them directly into certain death.

Or maybe, just maybe – Arthas keeps Tirion on his own land for his sole amusement.

As I continue to make my way up the snowy hill I come past five wooden archways standing in a circle, each of them has a light hanging down from the middle of the arc. They were built around a crack in the ice, the hilt of a sword prominently reaching out of the ground. I can sense there is something magical about this place, although it's not too strong, barely present at all.

I shan't bother to waste more time or thoughts on this place

A large circular arena forms the center of the tournament as it has been finished a few days ago. It outshines the rest of the grounds completely. Still the overzealous crusaders had to build it in a way that it would look like some kind of church or at least a giant cross when you would look down upon it from above.

Two guards of the Argent Crusade look at me as I come up the small hill. They grant me a rather friendly greeting to which I don't respond at all. To my right I pass a large magnataur lying in chains. They are large four-legged creatures with a thick fur and muscular humanoid torsos. They could be related to centaurs, though I don't mettle with such information although the unrelenting stench coming from both those races, reaching even my nose could be a proof of their relation.

The head of the animal is hanging low, seems to me they got it to sleep somehow, which I guess should be rather difficult, as they are usually hostile to any other race except for kobolds.

It is just behind the beast that I see a round tent with flags of the Horde hanging above its entrance, signalizing this would be one possible place I had to travel to.

All around me the fights are on their way, horses charging at each other. Only the finest warriors of Azeroth, sitting on the back of their steeds, poking each other out of the saddle. Why do they have to do that anyways? It's not like we'll be able to use the horses inside the citadel...

I turn my attention to the tent of the Argent Crusade to the far west, if Cassi and the rest weren't there, I would surely find them in the Horde tent.

The tribunes next to the fighting grounds are already filled with spectators, most of them warriors that are waiting for their turn in line.

The long entrance way into the area is flanked by statues of heroes of the Argent Dawn, reminding me of the Hall of Heroes in the Scarlet Monastery. At first I can't really believe what I am seeing there, but the truth just doesn't back off and they actually built statues.

What are they thinking? Holding this tournament, building statues... are they stalling for time? Every word they say spoke of how time was of the essence! I thought we'd have to make haste and not waste resources and time on bric-a-brac like this!

The fury boiling on my inside I get off my deathcharger and order it to stay put outside the tent.

I don't worry much about Abigore. He wouldn't let anybody except for me touch him and in case of real danger while I am not around, he would probably vanish to the realm of shadows. As a fiend he would find a safe retreat there.

A woman named Mariel Trueheart greets me as I am about to enter the large tent.

"Welcome to the Argent Tournament, Champion of Undercity." She smiles at me. "Magister Edien Sunhollow is the Sunreaver representative of the tournament and he will..."

I turn around and leave her while she is still talking to me.

Her look showing her bewilderment she stops speaking mid-sentence as I am backing off already.

None of the people I'm looking for is here so I have no need in staying and listening to the rubbish of the paladin.

I take Abigore by the reins and head back for the east side of the tournament grounds.

The people on the tribunes are cheering for their favorite fighters as they continue to fall for it. They start to see all of this as a game, a stupid, little, harmless game.

The tent where the representatives of the Horde reside is a lot smaller than the one of the Argent Crusade. As I enter, I spot them immediately: Cassiopheia, the bloodelf warlock, the troll called Seljun and a tall tauren shaman called Canthar are awaiting me here.

"What took you so long?" Cassiopheia asks me with her usual slightly aggressive tone. I don't bother to respond. Her imp is jumping around her feet, squeaking happily. After taking a quick look around me, I just can't hold back asking any longer.

"What are we doing here anyway?" I raise an eyebrow to complete the look on my face. "I'm not too keen on riding a horse of the Argent Crusade for shoving people out of their saddles..." I know I sound annoyed, but I can't conceal me thinking this way.

"That's not what we're here for..." Cassi, growing impatient, replies to my bad try for a last excuse. "We're here to enter our names into the list for the trials they are holding tomorrow. It seems not too many want to make an attempt on those because last time, yesterday, a couple of people died in the arena."

"So you are telling me that you want to enlist me, together with you for those strange trials of the old Fordring?"

"Yes, that is exactly what I plan on doing..." She narrows her eyes as I think about it for a moment.

"Why? Just why are you doing this? I know what I'm capable of, I mean... we all know what we can do, don't we?"

Seljun puts his hand to his long forehead covering his eyes with a sigh. He already knows too good what would happen now.

"You'll come with us, god dammit!" Cassi bellows at me. "You are the one that talks about wanting to join the fight against the Lich King, always nagging and bragging about their fighters and that you probably won't be able to go in there alone. If you want to go to the black citadel with them, then you'll have to go through their trial. Cope with it!" For a moment it seems she has calmed down again, yet with a final outburst she yells at me one final thing. "NOW SIGN UP ALREADY!"

With a sigh I take the quill idly lying on the desk in front of Magister Sunhollow as he offers me a bashful smile and enter my name into the list of participants for tomorrow.

"I'm going to Dalaran for the night... we'll meet here again tomorrow evening. Be there... and be on time...!" She is still angry, reminding me of how I had forgotten her once or twice, but I know by tomorrow she'll have forgotten about all this and be in a good mood again.

Contrary to me all three of them leave only moments later. I planned on staying here for the night. Should be as good a place as any... Outside the Horde tent the first fireplaces had been set up together areas where one can rest and take a pause after the 'exhausting' fights of the tournament. Silent I take a seat at one of the long tables and look around for a while, thinking I might spot at least one person I know.

As night creeps over these blighted lands, the fires are lit and a group of squires hastily brings along fresh meat that one could grill, roast or simply eat raw by the fireplaces.

The orcs take great delight in this service, as well as the trolls sitting around me. The tauren on the other hand watch the scene with a certain disgust hidden in their gazes. I always chuckle over the thought if one or the other of them was worried that the meat might have been somebody they knew.

I don't see a single bloodelf sitting outside amidst most of the fighters, nothing too peculiar though. Most of the elves are surely in Dalaran, keeping a safe distance to the savage folk..., ignorant fools they are.

I for my part... like every member of the Forsaken I look at the food and drink offered impassively.

After a while the squires return, this time bringing along alcohol for us: beer, wine and mead. It barely takes a couple of minutes until the first orc jumps onto the table making growling noises which could actually have be related to singing.

As he comes jumping along the table, I take a moment to think about grabbing his right leg and sending him flying, but I already see where this would lead to, and end. That brute surely could not rest without trying to regain his 'honour' after something like that. And I'm not too keen on spilling orc-blood today. I have enough trouble already with those ones that cry out 'Lok'tar Ogar' at every suitable moment.

As time continues to tick away I lean back resting against the firm wall of the coliseum behind me and decide on just keep on watching how more orcs will make fools of themselves.

The only thing that I found more disturbing and worrying than having to watch something like this is the fact that the noises coming from the other side of the building are quite similar to these here. The Alliance may call us savages or mindless animals, but if they were truly honest for once, they would all have to agree that we are more alike than we all believe it to be okay. Although I have to admit, I think the dwarves might be closer to the orcs than the humans are, but that's not up to me to decide.

The flow of alcohol keeps the 'festivities' going on for several straining hours. After the first orc collapses, the second makes his merry way up onto the table and shortly after that the third follows along whilst the idiot squires keep on bringing more and more fuel for their delusion. Was that too an order from Tirion Fordring? Only a healthy and drunk orc is a good orc? Still, the question would also apply to the Alliance, but I have to admit that may be actually out of question... Only a drunk dwarf is a good dwarf after all.

Throughout the whole evening I haven't said a single word, I've only been sitting there watching, keeping to myself. The others left me be, no-one played up pesky and those that knew my name made sure to stay clear. But by now I have enough of this pathetic show and decide to leave.

My mind on the run I head for the east-side of the tournament grounds.

As I follow along the way, I accidentally step on something that looks like a large white lump of snow yet as it turns out this snow is actually a rather large beetle that had been crawling around and about. With a loud crack its carapace bursts open scattering a violet liquid across the ground as well as my leg, ending his surprisingly large life. Carelessly I kick the dead insect aside, thinking about how I'll be able to get this violet slime off my armor now...

As I came here during the afternoon, I left Abigore standing out here without tying him to something. Not able to find him near the Horde tent, I guess he returned to the realm of shadows in search for food some time ago.

Trying this theory I don't hesitate to summon him to my side and with a loud shriek my steed enters this world, the blue flaming eyes staring at me unremittingly. Abigore slightly prods my arm with his head as a greeting. I don't know if it's a strange gesture for a deathcharger, but after a while I figured that this might be a friendly hello.

Shadow's Edge is still tied to Abigore's back. The moment back in Acherus when I took the axe with me, I didn't realize it yet, but after seeing it emerge from the shadows times and times again it has become painfully clear to me: That axe is a truly vile weapon. The moment my steed steps out of the realm of darkness, you can see the overflowing energy from the weapon spilling into this realm. It feeds on the dark energies, on the blood that was spilled, on the souls that were taken here. Seeing it in moments like this is the only reason why I haven't used it until now. Something about it strikes fear into my dead heart, even though I hate to admit it. I fear of what I might unleash, should it be wielded.

It takes several minutes for the weapon to fully lose its glow again. It takes up far more energy than it could possibly contain as the amount of energy flowing out of its blade is so great that you could actually watch how the trees next to me began to whither.

In these moments I come to find why I had built up a kind of inner restraint on using this weapon, but

Foremost of all it shows me how depressingly weak I have become. Alone the thought about how I bowed down to the request of the elf earlier reveals it all. What had become of me? Am I changing again, or was it already too late?

A small part of me hoped that Shadow's Edge might bear the answer for me. That it would make me whole again and I can't fully deny it. There are these moments when I want to reach out for the axe and grab it.

Yet there is more to it than meets the eye or mind. I can't really tell if this might be the real reason for me not using it. But something about it seems unfinished to me.

Absently I shake my head towards my own resentment as I take up Abigore's reigns and head with him towards the hillside in the east.

The first mountain ridge extends itself in front of me, reaching far beyond my head as we come to the end of the way, leading half-way out into the endless ocean of nothingness.

The snow around me shines in a bright white. It appears so clean and untouched, but with every step I take further it becomes more churned up and dirties from the blood of the insect I accidentally had squashed earlier.

The wind rustles through the twigs and branches of the few heavily snow-covered trees standing up here alone, granting faint fellowship only to each other. Surefooted I step to the edge of the land, only a few steps away from me, having a look down to the cliff below. It is tall and jagged - no one would ever survive falling down from here.

Directly to the north of the tournament there lies a small isle offshore that was once home to a tribe of the Kalu'ak. But now the former inhabitants lie scattered across the island..., dead and plague-ridden. The sound of a low pitched horn is heard every evening lamenting on their death, or maybe foreboding what to come. The Argent Crusade is investigating this matter currently.

Not much left to see but the slow waves of the northern seas flowing towards the land I turn around and lead Abigore away from the cliffs. Having a casual look to the west I face the coliseum, the wind never ceasing to play with the flags up high.

Don't they see that they are only wasting time, precious hours and days? They aren't preparing anybody with this tournament! Maybe they can actually sort out a few people that would only be dead weight for the charge on the citadel, yet is toying around with horses and wooden sticks really the right way to do this? They are only getting the worthless ones killed that much earlier. The graveyard that lies not too far away from here proving my point... roughly sixty or seventy people have already been buried here.

And again the thought about death only heightens my senses. I'm growing anxious to find out what this trial, as they call it, is about; though on the other hand I already know that it will be nothing more than a huge disappointment.

With the wind howling in my ears I stand here alone and gaze upon the little playground of the Argent Crusade. All the weapons had been put down most people are now dancing as colorful little sprites around the fires, drunk of the alcohol or their own pride. Only the few guards in the towers stand fast, keeping watch over the shades of the night as they lurk about amidst the mountains close by. They all feel safe up on this ridge, such fools. If he truly wanted, everybody here would be dead already. He only lets them live because all of this is amusement for him too.

It is times like these when the chill of Northrend clutches even my rotten heart, when I see the faces of Corren, Keira and a few others before my inner eye and then it overcomes me.

This feeling

This anxiousness

I feel left alone.

And I can't deny it even - I am alone. Leaving me with I want being somebody to talk to and yet I know fully well I can't. I wouldn't say a single word, would not spill a single emotion. My feelings are not for them. They wouldn't understand... They couldn't! How would they? How could they know how it feels to be me? How it feels to live with mistakes as grave as the ones that I have made?

I turn around and take a few steps over to the side of the graveyard, buried underneath the thick layer of snow.

My soul is at unease, I feel restless. I have been agitated since I first set a foot into Icecrown, all because of him, because of his weapon. But soon this will come to an end. Soon I will offer the last drops of the vicious black blood that is flowing through the veins of his undead body to the suffering souls such as mine.

Soon I will find peace.

With a short gesture I signalize Abigore to stay outside the graveyard's bounds, as I start to stroll the lines of little tombstones, barely reaching out of their cover. I don't know why I am doing this, any dead body would do.

I come to a stop in front of a fresh grave. For a short moment I concentrate on the creature I want to resurrect.

In such dire need of company anybody or anything would do for now.

A digging sound announces the awakening of my minion, mere seconds later an undead hand bursts out of the snow, followed by the horrible disfigured face of a ghoul.

After clawing its way out of the ground completely, it shakes itself once to get rid of the snow in the rags it is still wearing. I on the other hand had already turned around and started heading back to Abigore, the ghoul now following closely behind.

"I LIKE GLITTER!" The wretched creature bursts out as it stumbles through the deep snow.

A few sole snowflakes come dancing down from the heavens as I take my place again, overlooking the tournament grounds.

"I know Ratcarver..." I say without bothering to take another look at him. "...I know..."


	49. Frozen Hearts Chapter 4

_Chapter 4: _

I have met many strange yet remarkable people since I had turned away from Arthas.

One of the most important encounters for me was hearing Alexstrasza, head of the red dragon flight granted me.

My motives were my own, yet not too complicated to see through. Inside the little bag that was still tied to my belt so very tightly there was a red scale that I suppose belonged to one of her flight. I'm left to assume Keira once wanted to give this to me as a gift, as a lucky charm for the priest leaving behind all superstition about dragons.

She often told me of the flights of various colors, I remember this part of my life vividly again, every story up to every single word of importance. The things she tried to teach me and how Corren often could only shake his head towards our enthusiasm for things he would simply deny.

A scale from a sibling of the binderin of life herself... What a terrific present for an aspiring priest, who was hope of manipulating the fate of the wounded and dead by himself sooner or later.

But now I didn't need it anymore.

Inside the little bag it lay next to the claw and tooth, mocking me every time I opened it to have a look at them, to have a look at my past.

And I cursed it.

I cursed Alexstrasza and every single red dragon still living in this world.

The scale didn't help in the slightest. Nobody helped Keira ... nobody at all.

I can't recall what drove me so I didn't just destroy it or throw it away to be found by next best unlucky fool, but instead I wanted to give it back, to return it.

The way to the Wyrmrest Temple was long and straining. I had to pass through Dragonblight from the northern most point to the frozen planes far south.

It was a rather troublesome journey, though not physically or because of any resident creatures, minions of the Lich King perhaps, but because of the ghosts of my very own past that started haunting me every time when I was alone.

When everything was quiet...

When I had the time to think...

As soon as I had left Crystalsong Forest, the first memories came invading my mind; at first only from the time with Keira and Corren, yet later quickly followed by various episodes of Darnys and Calystea.

I plunged myself back into a dark well of wary sadness. It didn't take too long for my thoughts to settle again though. Yet, the sorrow that I feel in such a moment only turns to wrath. A kind of feral rage that will burst out on the closest target I can find – unfortunate being.

Not too long ago, while I was staying in Orgrimmar over the night, this almost cost the life of an orc, and me the right to enter the city of Thrall. I'm sure the Warchief talked to Sylvanas about this matter, concerning me as her personal servant and not his, but nothing ever came back to me. Sylvanas is smart enough to realize and accept on her own that it would probably be easier to kill me instead of trying to punish me. But at that moment disposing of me wouldn't be such a good idea and she knows that.

They needed me just as much as I needed them. At least that was what I wanted to believe.

Besides... why should the Banshee Queen care about the life of one meaningless orcish slob?

With all these things on my mind again I started to become afraid of what might happen at the top the spire I was travelling to. Alexstrasza could easily say something that would provoke me and cause the frenzy to break loose.

But the anger I felt was already diminishing again, making room for more clear thoughts by the minute. Yet still trying to kill the head of a dragon flight in the middle of broad day and inside the sacred halls of the Wyrmrest Temple could turn quite troublesome.

On the other hand, I can't say I really cared at that moment.

Everything in my head was a mess as I rode on through the light snowfall of the frozen wastes.

Coming from the Stormpeaks, a large road lead the way to the temple. At various points the stone was broken and giant pieces were found missing so one could not follow it the whole way. Nevertheless it still eased travelling through Dragonblight a lot.

Abigore rode as fast as the wind on the smooth surface, even jumping a few of chasms.

He made it feel as if we were flying, the cold air caressing my face.

Even my rotten skin could feel the chill of Northrend if I so desired.

Steadily the Wyrmrest Temple drew nearer and grew taller in its appearance. Those titans really knew how to build impressing cities, keeps, temples or whatever that building had originally been intended for.

But the frail peace of the moment was shattered quickly enough as the signs of the waging war between the aspects showed themselves early on. Dragons of the red and blue flights were fighting each other alongside the temple, devouring their opponents with magical flames of bright colors as they turned around the spire in circles. Others lunged out at their opponents plunging themselves into close combat and with all their strength they tried to bite into the throat of the enemy or disembowel them with the help of their sharp claws.

It was strange to see a humble and restraint creature like a living dragon fighting just like the wild animals that we all are deep inside, fuelled by rage and fear.

The mangled bodies of the losers from the different struggles dropped towards the ground, though most of them didn't even come close to the pure white snow around Wyrmrest. The red dragons burst into flames as soon as they die and the blue ones vanished into thin air with a mild explosion of arcane energy. They all returned back to the essence of their siblings.

I couldn't help but wonder how Alexstrasza, binderin of life, felt about seeing her beloved children die like this, fighting the spawn of a former companion.

At the foot of the old titan facility I dismissed Abigore to the realm of shadows and entered the ground floor. The merchants I found there were of all kind of races, although you can never be sure if they weren't all just dragons in disguise so that one felt more comfortable with them around. The only person in the room, except for me myself where I was sure she was definitely not a dragon was the undead vendor in the southeast. No dragon, no matter how much consumed by madness, would ever take the form of an undead. At least that's the impression I had gained over the time of those giant lizards or maybe it had been forbidden by the Lifebinder.

As I had expected they all turned out to be well informed. It didn't take long until a tall bloodelf came straight up to me with an overly friendly greeting as he led me to the west side of the temple. He already knew where I wanted to go and Alexstrasza seemed to be daring enough to take the risk of having me inside the top chambers.

A rather small red dragon landed next to the temple and the bloodelf told me that I could get on its back to travel up the spire.

I didn't worry too much about the probability of this being a trap... These dragons were all far too honest for setting up something up like that.

As we flew upwards the little one had his problems carrying with me in a full set of armor one his back. Even though the Saronitesteel is rather light, it still has a certain weight to it. But I can't say I really noticed it at the time. I took my chance to watch the dragons fighting for a little longer instead. It seemed the blue dragons were the stronger ones, yet they were always outnumbered by the red drakes.

One of the larger blue ones bit the head of his opponent clean off with a single swipe.

Still if I had to take a wild guess, I would have said the reason for the red flight's lack of strength were their self-imposed shackles of being the 'good guys' in this fight. This may have been noble, yet their foolishness will ultimately lead to their defeat. They always tried to just beat the blue dragons into submission and not kill them. The children of Malygos on the other hand didn't put the life of their enemy above their own. They were relentless and rightfully so.

From the moment I first set foot onto the highest level of the temple, I felt the presence of Alexstrasza looming over me. To my surprise there was nothing pressing about it at all, quite the contrary indeed... it felt soothing.

The young red dragon that had brought me up to this level seemed happy enough that he wouldn't have to carry me for a second time and took off back to the lower areas.

This sacred spire of the temple was a disappointingly small room with a bright blue orb shining forth from in its very center. I couldn't tell what that device was for, but actually I didn't care about it too much either. The chamber had no real walls, only columns substituted for them and formed a circular room with a clear view all around.

Standing close to the orb I found the council of the various dragon flights. All of them currently in their humanoid forms, I saw two bloodelves, one human and a little gnome additionally to Alexstrasza who stood out of the council.

She was in her typical high elven form. However, whilst the other members of the council tried to look like a real member of the race they had chosen to blend into, Alexstrasza seemed a bit more extravagant.

The clothes she was wearing weren't as uptight as anything the other council members were wearing leaving much of her smooth skin unveiled. On the other hand, there was no need to hide this body of hers, although it may have only been a guise for her dragonly features.

She had a beautiful, lush body, not as unnaturally scrawny as you might expect from an elf. Her hair was of a fiery red color. But still, the slightly pink tone of her skin gave her an awkward appearance. The two horns on the side of her head and her bright ember eyes distorted her looks even further.

As she spoke, her words were calm. The voice she used clear and rather light, a typical elven one in my opinion, yet there was something special about it. It soothed my anger and restlessness. At least it took the problem of accidentally attacking her away. Something about it made me feel a strange warmth inside me. It was as if her words were travelling directly to my heart, as if they were trying to give me a feeling of safety.

Oh, I did feel safe... a lot too safe when facing a dragon.

The iciness of my voice and heart drove the warmth of Alexstrasza's spell away instantly.

"What brings you here, Death knight? What is it that you seek?" She asked me, her ember eyes fixed upon me as my hand reached for the bag hanging from my belt and I took a few steps towards her.

"I want to return something..." I said without any emotion.

As I passed the blood elf who was completely dressed in leaf-green robes, he hectically jumped to the side, trying to bring a few more feet in between us.

They all feared the cursed metal that my armor was made of. Saronite ore is drenched with the blood of the old god Yogg-Saron. Some people even say it was the crystalline form of his pure lifeblood.

Most people who wore such suits of armor or wielded weapons forged from Saronite quickly became insane, falling for all kinds of delusions. They all said that they heard whispers of various kinds - promises, threats or even just mad uttering every now and then.

But I have my own ghosts whispering to me. I just didn't listen to the other ones.

"And please..." I continue as I was still on my way closer "...don't ask your silly little questions. I'm not in the mood for your games and you surely already know why I came here." I didn't have a reason for why I should treat her with more respect than anybody else.

The little gnome at her side looked at me with a wink. Something was familiar about her, although I couldn't tell what. Later on I found out her name was Chromie, although this didn't change anything about the situation.

Alexstrasza tilted her head sideways in anticipation as I had almost reached her.

"Are you sure you want to return something and not just run away from your past?" Her voice still was offering the warmth of the life-binderin, but again I refused to accept it.

"Stop fooling around and just take it!" By the time I said these words I had untied the bag and already held it in my right hand stretched out towards the dragon aspect.

"Do you seek forgiveness for what you have done? Or is it retribution?" She had the tone of a high elf by then. There was something about her that I didn't like from the first moment on I had seen her. I just couldn't stand it... this arrogance.

She calls herself the binderin of life. She claims to hold the power of creation... and therefore she has the right to stand out?

The way she talks, every single word she speaks gives you the impression she cares about you, no matter who you are or what you have done. But... when I looked at her, everything fiber in me rejected these feelings. I saw nothing but another arrogant elf, perhaps dragon, trying to be someone special.

Our eyes met as both of us had fallen silent for different reasons.

If the stories I had heard about her were true then she had suffered a lot in the past, and still I started asking myself 'why'. If she knew pain like that..., if she knew pain just like I did..., why did she still send her children into battle against 'the Blue' with these constraints shouting out pure lunacy? How could she just send her children into certain death instead of fighting herself? All around us, even it that single moment red dragons died to the claws and teeth of Malygos' offspring as we were looking at each other.

I was sure that she could easily read my mind as long as we looked into each other's eyes. And as I felt how the wrath fueled by sorrow started rising again, I wanted her to experience the same. Maybe she would see me as the mirror she was lacking. But my own impatience quickly got the better of me.

"What do you want from me? Why are you asking questions like this?" It finally burst out of me after the long period of silence.

The other members of the council looked at me for a short moment.

She didn't hesitate to answer still she gave me a few extra seconds before she spoke. It was as if she wanted me to alter the things I had said. As if she was giving me a second chance for something I didn't want.

"You are asking the wrong person the wrong things, death knight. The really important question would be rather what do you want from me?"

The only thing I could imagine at the time was her mocking me.

"Just take that damned scale of your kin! It was useless! Just a piece of trash!" I yelled out at her while throwing the bag to her feet.

Opened already, everything that had been in it was now scattered happily over the floor. The sharp claw glided over the smooth stone to the edge of the platform almost falling off.

The red scale stopped directly in front of Alexstrasza as well as the ring I was carrying in the bag along. From distinguished eyes she looked down at the two items resting in front of her.

With a slow but fluent movement she picked up ring first. As it bore the signet of the Kirin Tor she turned it around in her hand giving it a closer more interested look.

"Give that to me!" I immediately demanded from her, taking another step towards her with a stretched out open hand.

"I thought you wanted me to take these things?" She asked, clearly trying to push me a bit further.

"Not that! Just the scale of yours!" I hate it when somebody starts arguing with you in such a way.

"Scale? You mean this little scrap of one?" She pointed at the red shining piece of dragon skin on the floor and almost laughed out loud. I didn't bother to respond, she already knew the answer after all. "If that is supposed to be a whole scale, it wouldn't even be big enough to belong to any of my smallest children." She slightly shook her head. "Besides, I still know well who I had given this to. And I also remember why. That woman was also the one, who once wore this ring. Do I stand correct?"

I silently looked at her from cold blue eyes. Not a single emotion was visible on my face and still I felt as if Alexstrasza was able to read me without any problems.

"She was a beautiful and aspiring young woman. A bit hot-headed perhaps, yet with a big heart. She wanted this piece of my scale as a present for one of her dearest friends. To show him the right way and guide him through the uncertainties this world holds in store for all of us. Sadly, I see, it was too late." Her last sentence almost sounded a bit sad. "Most humans would pointlessly take many lives for only meeting me once, for being able to pose a single question. And all she wanted was a scrap of an old scale of mine as a gift for somebody else. I could sense how she missed you and the old days you had spent together at that time, but she lived in the present and for the future, not for the past... You should learn that too."

The tall bloodelf next to Alexstrasza picked up the little bag as well as the red scale. He then took the ring out of Alexstrasza's hand and put everything into the bag again before he came towards me.

"You should honour the dead with living your own life, with pursuing your own path for a better future. Living with the ghosts of your past won't turn you into a hero or whatever it is that you want to become. Put the past to rest and let her live on in your heart." She makes a short pause, "Don't be so foolish to disgrace her and the sacrifice she made with hatred."

I remained silent as I took the bag from the bloodelf.

"I feel pain and sorrow to see a once so pure soul as yours now in a tormented state like this, death knight. Tainted by the shadow, ripped from its old vessel and forced into a new." What nonsense she was talking that moment I said to myself full of blissful ignorance. But it was only one of many countless thoughts and emotions fighting for the right to prevail. I cannot really describe what was going through my head in that particular moment.

"I see everything you have gone through. How you had to suffer and I must tell you: Be careful. Don't fall to make the same mistakes so many have already made before you. The path you wish to travel is crooked and lies rightfully forgotten by the light." Her voice grew thinner with every word she spoke until the eventually faded into nothing.

After a few minutes of complete silence I turned around, led by an invisible hand. The tall bloodelf who had handed me the little bag again orders one of the smaller dragons to take me down to the lower areas.

Before leaving the spire I could see from the corner of my eye how the little gnome shook her head with a sigh as she looked over to Alexstrasza.

On the way down I had to chance to watch the on-going fights between the red and blue flight, just like on the way upwards, except this time my mind was completely empty. Not a single thought came up to cause any unrest in my head.

After having set foot onto solid earth again I blindly took a few steps away from the Wyrmrest Temple before summoning Abigore.

Shadow's Edge shined in a bright, intense violet from the vast shadow energy pouring out of the weapon as my deathcharger came into this realm. It was the sight of the blade which slowly brought me back to reality. I then started to comprehend what had happened just minutes ago. I could even still feel the warmth in my heart that Alexstrasza had left behind for me to feed upon.

It took only mere seconds for my anger to vanquish this feeling.

Those treacherous lizards!

She had tricked me!

The moment I opened up for only a few seconds she cast her spell on me. I had let my guard down for only the shortest of moments and she used it for her own ends!

You could not trust the red dragon flight. That was the only thing I had really learned that day.

Looking at the bag in my right hand before I tied it back to my belt, it all collapsed onto me.

This whole idea of meeting Alexstrasza was bent on turning out a failure.

How could I have been this naive?

I screamed out loud in my frustration once or twice. Every living creature near me should now have been alarmed not to cross my path. And should they still be so foolish and only blink...I would want to kill whatever it was without restraint.

"Honour the dead by living my life?" I whispered to myself as I get onto Abigore's back to ride off.

"What life should there be left? I have already died twice."


	50. Frozen Hearts Chapter 5

_Chapter 5: _

It's been just another ice cold day out of many until now, but soon I'll be on my way back to the warm heart of Dalaran and leave these pathetic tournament grounds behind. The Argent Crusade won't be able to use it anymore anyways after what had happened.

Yesterday was the big day of the old Tirion's event. The happening we had been forced to pointlessly wait for and at long last in the late afternoon the slaughter commenced. Unfortunately for me and the people that had signed up together with me there was a short-term flood of applicants. Former crusaders, eager fools and others you could only call a jest of a warrior suddenly came pouring over the Argent Dawn. In a short term decision the old Fordring announced to let the aspiring warriors, as he called us, take turns with the different trials they had set up for us. He believed that this way everyone could show prove his worth for the upcoming charge.

Sadly, our group was the one to go first and the trial we had to face was nothing short of ridiculous..., a little horde of beasts gathered from throughout Northrend.

Yes... the old Fordring actually send us against a magnataur, two strange worms called jormungar and a yeti. To make things even easier for us they sent them in one after the other, except for the worms, which were introduced as the 'twin-terrors'.

Hilarious if you look at it as entertainment, but not much of a trial for someone trying to challenge the Lich King in his own halls. There had been a time when I almost began to admire the Argent Crusade due to their courage they show when facing the undead horde, but now? They remind me far more of the Scarlet Crusade in its final strokes before we rounded them up that day with the frostwyrms.

Crusaders... they are all the same.

The magnataur was the most annoying of the creatures we had to fight, shameful to say the least. The sheer stench was paralyzing for some of our group.

It didn't take long for us to kill that giant four-legged beast though. After smashing one of the tauren participants into a single pulp of blood and fur with a sole strike, he already couldn't take too much more of a beating. And only few minutes later the body of the magnataur lay to our feet covered with bruises and bleeding wounds from our weapons as well as burns from the spells of our warlocks and mages.

The 'twin-terrors' afterwards proved to be the most dangerous encounter we would have to face. Both of them were able to spit out a different kind of highly concentrated acid. It took only a few spurts of each acid to touch my skin and even with my numbed feelings the pain it created was hardly bearable. It burned its way right through flesh and bone. The jormungar called Acidmaw would sometimes turn around and spray his corrosive bile into the group. Leaves me glad now that I dodged it the moment the creature had aimed for me. I don't know what effect the acid would have on Saronite, but I wasn't too keen about putting it to the test either.

After eventually defeating the two worms the third and final creature we had to face was a yeti captured in valleys of the Stormpeaks. The crusaders fearfully called him Icehowl. A rather simple brute, just as you might expect from his race. He often tried to grab one or two people from the group who were too slow and threw them against the wall of the coliseum and as a follow up he charged at them trying to crush them. I can't remember anybody who wasn't able to get out of the yeti's way in time, although its somewhat surprising that no back were broken. But these shenanigans too came to a sudden end as after its third try, we heard a loud crack and blood came pouring out of the ears of the furry white animal.

As I said - everything was rather amusing.

After this 'test 'we were led out of the arena and onto the upper tiers where most of the viewers were seated. Even the warchief Thrall and his personal brute Garrosh Hellscream had been present as we were dancing around a couple of monsters for apparently a greater cause. Of course I tried to put as much distance between me and them as I probably could, once I had spotted them. King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind and Jaina Proudmoore were their counterparts of the Alliance, sitting directly on the opposite tribune.

Garrosh and Varian are both more the hot-headed types, staring and wildly shouting at each other while the fight in the coliseum was already waging between the soon-to-be fighters of the Argent Dawn and the lesser opponents they had brought along for them.

The second trial was for a group of Alliance warriors being set up by a little gnomish warlock who tried to summon a doomguard for them as an opponent. I have to admit, he has my respect even though he died in the process of the summoning. He turned out strong enough, or at least insane enough to open a portal straight into the deepest layers of the twisted nether and tear something out far more dangerous: an eredar lord. With a single strike the demon tore the little gnome apart before turned to the rest of the fighters announcing the end of our puny little world. Now that looked like a challenge I would have loved to face, but in the end, it was yet another disappointment. Apparently the demon wasn't too strong despite his high and mighty words, for the group of humans, dwarves and nightelves managed to slay him without any greater losses.

After the red eredar lay defeated at the feet of us all in a puddle of his own violet blood, Garrosh and Varian again started to shout insults at each other. The showcase of rage and racism carried on for a while until at some point later a group of warriors from each side leaped down into the coliseum in the name of their kings and or warchiefs. I wanted to join them just to mess up a few more of them, but I was held back by my fellow guild-members just in time to remember who I'd be fighting for. And that was something I did not want to stand for.

It ended just as one might expect. There was no winner to this battle. As it came down to the wire everybody had taken enough blows to go down and all of the participants were scarred for eternity. Only thing certain was the priests and paladins of the crusade would have a busy night with what had been left of them.

The fourth and last scheduled encounter was the most interesting sounding by far. The crusade had managed to capture, yes 'capture', two Val'kyr, the war-maidens of Arthas. Afraid of what might happen in the arena the contestants even got a bit of support from the Argent Crusade for this fight. A total of four experienced paladins joined the battle to secure victory over the minions of the Scourge should anything go badly wrong.

The two Val'kyr, one as black as the night, the other as pure as light, were far more efficient killers than the previous opponents. About one third of the participants were killed and they even managed to eliminate one of the paladins. Then again if I think about it for a moment: If those really had been lieutenants of the Lich King, they were probably only part of the cannon-fodder of the unholy legion. I was ready and willing to take my chances and guess that was another reason why the Crusade was able to capture them in the first place.

Yet the much greater surprise was what occurred after the trials had been officially over.

It was just after Tirion Fordring had finished his little speech about victory and loss, about how on this day the Argent Crusade had delivered a heavy blow to the Scourge when it happened.

The first few restless people already standing and making their way to the exits, the air around us lost temperature fast... Everybody knew this couldn't be just a normal air-current. It was far too unnatural.

Those of lesser heart began shaking as the wind carried his hollow voice into the coliseum and a dark portal appeared at its entrance, blocking off any possible retreat for the unlucky few still inside the arena. Everybody fell silent as he spoke to us, listening carefully to his words of foreboding.

Arthas; he dared show his face!

The few warriors still down with him were trembling in fear, revealing to everyone what these trials are truly worth. But even I was paralyzed as I stared at him and his runeblade, although for entirely different reasons.

The heavy armor made faint noises with every step he took, Frostmourne tightly clutched in his fist, he approached the rim of the arena. The ice blue eyes of the skull on its handle seemed to be staring specifically at me and only me.

It was the old Fordring who first broke the silence and commanded the Lich King to lower his weapon Frostmourne and surrender because we would outnumber him with ease.

His only response was a vile laughter.

With only little effort he plunged his weapon into the ground of the arena, shattering it immediately and sending the remaining survivors of the fight against the Val'kyr down into a bleak abyss.

Arthas disappeared again through the portal that he came from just as fast as he had appeared, leaving only a last few words behind for us to remember.

"Soon all of your champions will be mine, Tirion. Those were only the first!"

From high above you could barely see the bottom of the pit carved deep down into the glacier we were standing on. After a few short moments the echoes of a strange clicking sound came to our ears. It originated from somewhere down there. I knew what was but it did not occur to me until it had been too late. Only seconds later terrible screams plunged out of the darkness below and filled the coliseum in its entirety.

I don't know whether the Crusade made any further efforts to get down there or not, but most of the spectators were asked to leave the building immediately, including us.

Soon afterwards deadly silence filled the tournament grounds, some of the priests and paladins started to say silent prayers. By then everybody finally realized that we were the ones who had actually lost this battle today.

But well, we all know how crusaders tend to think: the battle might be lost, but we will still win this war, even if we are missing three limbs and one eye. On the other hand why should I care about them? It's not of my concern if they run into their own doom or not. It only matters what I will achieve!

Despite all the trouble in the end and the pitiful challenges offered at least we didn't do this for nothing. Before we were led out they presented us each with a new belt and a variety of different pieces of armor for us to choose from, an offer for everybody who took part in the trials.

I for my part, I just stuck to the belt they gave me, I didn't want to take off my Saronite armor, not to mention that I did not want to walk around in armor decorated with the symbols of the Horde.

It took me a great deal of effort to scratch that damn symbol off the belt already. How could those arrogant orcs believe they can just take their symbol as a general model for the whole of the horde anyways?

But well... now my belt is covered with scratches and I'm on the flight to Dalaran.

Finally a wyvern was ready to take me there. Far too many people had been still lingering on the tournament grounds and it took over an hour of waiting time to get one of these damn animals. And that for such a dangerous route! You have to fly directly over the area near the fortress Scourgeholme. It's a small outpost filled with minor nerubians and reanimated crusaders of the Argent Crusade. From there they lay siege to the 'Justice Keep' of Tirion Fordring and the 'Crusaders Pinnacle'. It's actually not too uncommon for them to catch a windrider or gryphon as the pass by from time to time. But not only that: This area of Icecrown are also known for the blizzard-like snowfall and the extreme cold. The Scourge is not the only dangerous thing about this area. The lands itself can be considered an enemy from time to time.

Luckily the city walls of Dalaran are not too far. You can see the flying city basically from everywhere in Icecrown. It takes a few of their strongest mages to keep the blizzards out of the city with a magical shield held up around it, also containing the pleasant warmth living creatures need and cherish.

As the wyvern finally touches the ground on Krasus' Landing on the edge of the floating rocks, I feel a bit glad that I have solid ground under my feet again, at least sort of.

The Kirin Tor managed to rebuild Dalaran as a beautiful city, though a bit too noisy and crowded for my liking. But it never lost any of its warm appeal it once had according to tales of old, before the mages took control over it and began closing the city to outsiders. There are even a few small animals running around between the trees, critters like squirrels and rabbits.

Yet I guess everything around here is only a creation of magic, a spell or an illusion. A few days ago I tried to smash one of those squirrels near the memorial of Antonidas in order to find out if I'm right, but that little bugger was just too damn quick for my heavy blade.

After entering the city I stop for a moment to think about what to do next. I idly look around at the bypassing people for a minute before I make up my mind and head for the blacksmith near the northern bank. Maybe there someone will be able to give me a hand with my new belt. I don't have a problem with the scratches all over its buckle, but I guess they'll be able to remove the symbol of the orcs at a whole and not just scratch off pieces of it like I did last night.

I enter the searing heat of the forge, its only sign for me being the distortions hovering in mid-air over the bright fires. The people there greet me in a careful, yet friendly fashion as it is normal in Dalaran. Only few will treat you differently according to your race, profession or beliefs. Although, even if it understandable with a bit of common sense, they act reserved when they can clearly tell by just looking at someone that killing is his or her sole profession to live on.

Most people in Dalaran are so fond, or should I say overconfident, of their magic that they don't look at me as an enemy. As long as I'm not looking for a fight that should be okay, still most of them tend to be too arrogant in this city, a trait which could easily be their downfall in the long run.

Outside the sky slowly turns black as night time approaches whilst I hand over the belt and a small fee for the 'repairs' that have to be made. The blacksmith takes it directly with him to the upper floor whilst the woman at the counter informs me that I can pick it up tomorrow at noon.

As the blacksmith with my belt walks to the staircase, he comes past the open flames of the forge before he turns and disappears out of sight. The whole belt shines brightly reflecting as much light as possible, even glittering a bit. I suppose it's made from Titanium just like my blade, Armageddon.

Saronite seems to be the complete opposite of Titanium, except for being extremely hard and sturdy, which is a trait of both materials. Titanium is as heavy as you'd expect it to be, non-magical - one could even say 'reflecting' and shines forth brightly in the light. Saronite on the other hand is exceptionally light to wear and when compared to other materials it weighs hardly anything. It also reacts extremely well with magic, as one could probably imagine, especially with shadow magic. It absorbs it to some degree and makes you able to use this stored energy as your own. I usually don't care too much about things like this and I'm sure most people would never even notice it, but... Saronite doesn't reflect any light at all. It never has this shine or glistening to it that other metal has. You can clean or even polish it as long as you want, it will always stay as dull as a rock.

'The black blood of Yogg-Saron' they say - I wonder how much of those myths are made up and how much of it might actually be the truth. Whatever the answer to this might be, I'm not too keen on finding it. I have my own problems to attend to and I wouldn't say it matters to me.

Saronite driving you insane - I know there are a few people that think of me as insane already, so why bother about it. I can't become something that I already am.

My eyes tucked to one of my gloves I leave the forge and turn to the inn across the street.

Though lives had been lost today we, the few people of our guild who participated in the trials, thought we should celebrate our success and victory in the tournament. Nothing too excessive is planned, so we settled on just having a drink together at the inn or something like that.

At first I didn't really want to go there, but they somehow managed to persuade me anyways. I can't even recall how they did that. I'm unsure if I'm growing too attached to those people or not. They hardly know anything about me and I'm not planning on changing that in near future. It's probably the best like it is at the moment. They know what they have to know and are all fine with that.

With a sigh I slowly approach the Legerdemain Lounge. Sundown draws nearer and the lights inside the tavern are lit as I come closer to the building. The moment I enter the lower floor, I can already hear a few familiar voices from one of the corners.

The innkeeper Amisi Azuregaze greets me and asks if she can do anything for me to help out. She's the owner of this tavern together with her husband, the quel'dorei or highelf as you might call him, Arille. I shake my head shortly as a response and point to a table in the back of the room where can spot a little group of bloodelves, tauren, trolls and whatsoever.

Cassiopheia is the first person I recognize from the distance. The whole lot is laughing after one of them has finished his story. I stand there for a moment and wonder if I really should join them. I always have the feeling that I don't really fit into their group. But my doubtful thoughts are interrupted the moment Cassi notices me standing there in the middle of the room. Not that it would be that easy to miss a Forsaken in a black Saronite armor standing in the middle of brightly lit inn, I just thought, maybe even hoped, it would take a few seconds longer.

With a gesture of her hand she signalizes I should stop tallying around and come over. Taking my time I just look at them for another minute. Cassi already narrows her eyes due to her rising level of annoyance as she throws me another short glaze and I immediately know I shouldn't push it too far if I wanted this evening go by as smoothly as possible.

Out of options to go to and steps to take before I reach the table I'm welcomed in a hearty fashion by most of the people. The majority of them sitting there are members of the guild, but some of them seem to have also brought friends along. I don't bother to memorize any of their faces as none of them is worth any further attention in my eyes. Hesitantly I take the seat at the wall next to a painting of a large floating tree surrounded by a forest of purest white crystal.

The barmaid is eager to deliver everything our group wishes for, ranging from non-alcoholic drinks over the classics like mead and beer to food. Except for us it's a rather quiet evening today, too many people spending the evening in grief.

The group quickly divides itself into two parts, each with people that know each other better than the other lot. I myself found me sitting in the middle of both sides. To my right there is the side with Cassi, most people there are telling stories of past ventures or curios occurrences with the rest listening tensely, and to my left there is the part of the group with Seljun where most of the talking is confusing and pointless gibberish but it always ends in wild laughter.

It's a miracle none of the sides disturbs the other.

The hours pass as everybody is having fun and drinking; only I sit there in silence and watch the on-going frenzy of positive emotions revolving. I somehow long for both of the things that I see, but I'm restless to tell myself I wouldn't fit in. I don't want to tell my tale to anybody at the table nor do I feel in the mood for mad laughter either.

After thinking about it for a while, I decide to get up and leave the tavern to get some fresh air. Without giving any comment on what I intend to do, I just leave without a word. It doesn't seem to bother that many people that I just got up without presenting a reason.

Only the light from the few windows and a couple magic candles lights up the street as I step out onto the street. At this time of the night everything is quite in the city. This is the time when I actually like Dalaran. Not knowing why, I decide to stay close to the open door of the tavern and lean against the wall of the building looking up into the air. The sky is cloudless every star can be seen as I trace the heavens for signs of my lost friends.

This is what Keira helped to build up - the thoughts come to my mind as I connect several stars with each other in my imagination. Strong, yet fragile..., just as hope always seems to be. I grab for the bag with the scale and try to touch it again... to feel it.

This is what Keira had died for.

It doesn't take long until I hear light footsteps approaching the doorway from the inside.

Cassiopheia is the one who steps out into the dark and quiet streets of Dalaran searching for me. The new robe she is wearing this evening for the first time, suits her well. The pure moonlight makes it look even better as far as I can tell from looking at her only from the corner of my eye.

"So, there you are..." She announces as she finds me leaning with the back against the outside wall of the tavern. "Where have you been? I've been wondering where you disappeared to all of a sudden." The tone of her voice is somewhat reproachful, a little too intense to achieve what she wants. "What are you doing out here anyways?" She asks but I don't bother to respond. She wouldn't listen to me anyhow. A moment passes before she points inside again and asks "Wanna come back inside with me?" Silence, that is my answer again, although I can already imagine how this is going to end.

"What's up with you? Shouldn't you be happy that you've been taken into account for the charge at the citadel?"

Yeah right... as if I would be happy that the old Fordring found one real fighter for their charge with his idiotic tournament.

"It's nothing..." I respond. A rather poor lie

"Tell me! Come on! What is it about?" She's pressing it, not knowing what she's getting herself into. I wonder if she actually wants to know what's on my mind or if she just tries to be polite.

"Well, just listen..." I have no idea if this answer will satisfy her or not. I'm not too keen on a long conversation about something like that at the moment, at least that's what I want myself to believe. "Be grateful that you are happy. Be grateful that you are not lonely. But do me one favor..., don't be any of it while I'm around." Even while saying this I keep on gazing at the stars above us.

"Oh come on... Is it again about that pathetic little grudge of yours? I'm sick of ..."

"PATHETIC?" It burst out of me probably yelling loud enough to wake up people across half of the city. I spin around seizing her shoulders, looking deep into her eyes, holding back my strength as good as I could to not hurt her. "Did you really just say that?" I ask again a bit calmer, still with a feeling of disbelief as my voice begins shacking wildly. She doesn't respond, even tries to look away to the ground. Rage fills my mind. I can barely hold back.

"Do you have any idea what I've been through in my life? Do you have any idea what I've done to get to this point? Do you have any idea what I witnessed? DO YOU?" I start yelling at her again while I keep her shoulders in my grasp.

Again now she is the one who remains silent.

"Don't you see that you know nothing? NOTHING! And don't you dare to tell me you'd understand any of it! Don't you even think about it!"

I keep on taking this all far further than it would have originally went. The conversation keeps going on and on in my head, although Cassiopheia didn't say a single word over the course of the last few minutes but I keep on shouting at her as a voice in my head keeps on answering me.

After a while it doesn't feel as if I'm the one answering anymore, more like the devil residing inside my heart called wrath.

"The blood of many people covers my hands... even from the ones I once loved..." I say as I calm down a bit the anger still driving every word.

A moment of complete silence arises out of nowhere.

After I have let it all out, Cassi opens her mouth to say something.

"I... I. You... know that I didn't mean it li..."

I push her to the side and let go of her shoulders. I finish her last sentence in the back of my head as I blindly head out into the night. After all it's not too hard to guess how it would have sounded.

Antonidas' memorial is close by, maybe I could go there, or I could head for Krasus' Landing and travel out of the city for a change, into the Stormpeaks perhaps.

I take a long walk through the streets of Dalaran where I finally calm down for good.

It's been not more than a few minutes ago and I can't recall everything I yelled at her in this outburst. The first time this happened to me, leaving me not knowing whether I should apologize to her tomorrow or in a few days or maybe even not at all. Everything piled up again tonight and she was the poor little elf who pocked it and stood there as the dam broke. Everything then happened so suddenly... even for me. But it's no use contemplating.

I make up my mind to take the next wyvern to the Stormpeaks to cool off my spirit and get away from all the people.

I'm still trying to recall what had just happened, but it leaves me only with one, rather poor conclusion.

"Maybe..." I say to myself as I speed up my pace to get to Krasus' Landing, "...even insanity is only a feeling after all."


	51. Frozen Hearts Chapter 6

_Chapter 6: _

Angrathar

The name that is to strike fear into the hearts of the living – in common tongue better known as Wrathgate. It is one entrance to the fortress of the Scourge, shielding what little about the enemy from unwanted eyes and keeping the head and heart of their strength.

The events that only recently took place at the Wrathgate were the first step on a long path of smaller and greater defeats of the Lich King. Many souls were lost the day as both armies of the Horde and Alliance met under a clear sky, trying once more to open the black gate in the north of Dragonblight. My absence is underlined by unappreciated shame, but I highly doubt, it would have made a difference.

Two proud and likewise daft heroes of our time were killed on said day.

Yet more importantly this event should herald an upcoming time of change as all this was set into motion by the Royal Apothecary Society of the Forsaken under their grand apothecary Putress.

The Forsaken were long time eager to create a new plague that would devour the living as well as the mindless ones under the control of Arthas - the ultimate weapon the rid this world of life in the hands of the Banshee Queen. With her own plans of how to end this war, still even she, who is most cunning and careful, was not prepared for what was about to happen. Trusting someone even only shortly can become your greatest weakness in times like these.

Nevertheless this was to become the beginning of the downfall of the Arthas as the Lich King, weakening him severely. From this point onwards he would only be pushed back further and further to the frozen heart of Icecrown. A mission I devoted myself to.

In the early afternoon the battle commenced as the troops of the Alliance first charged at the gate. The Lich Kings answer for their knocking on his doorstep came immediately in form of a little horde of skeletons and ghouls rising out of the mellow earth in front of the gate.

Angrathar itself is shaped after the Helm of Domination, the helmet that was once crafted by demons to hold the spirit of Ner'zhul and to give him the powers he holds now as the Lich King.

The forces of the Alliance led into battle by Bolvar Fordragon already in the fray, struck down as many undead as they could. Their losses were only few, but the minions of the Scourge were count and relentless, a ghouls cares not for how many limbs they lose in a fight.

"Rise up sons of the Horde! Blood and Glory awaits us!" The voice of the young Dranosh Saurfang echoed down into the valley before of the gate. And as the sound of a horn was heard from the east with a raging battle cry the soldiers of the Kor'kron came charging down the hill on their wolves.

"Finally..." Bolvar muttered to himself, striking down another undead.

"LOK'THAR OGAR! For the HORDE!" The orcs yelled upon arriving on the bloodied battlefield.

Only the threat of the Lich King taking this world as a whole seemed enough to unite forces of the Alliance and Horde under the same banner, fighting for the same cause. The fights when the gap between both factions narrowed down into nonexistence were rare, but this most certainly was one of them - the sons and daughters of Alliance and Horde standing side by side, facing a mutual foe.

After the orcs had joined the slaughter no matter how many undead rose from their shallow grave they were slain within only few seconds und the ferocity of the newly arrived war machine. They swung their axes like savages until they grew dull from only hitting bones.

The numbers of the undead soldiers finally began to cease and as their corpses remained shattered on the ground victory was drawing closer. Only few ghouls were still standing when the Wrathgate suddenly opened.

Behind the gateway of spikes sliding apart only endless darkness was found, a chasm leading into the very heart of obscurity only surpassed by the silence inhabiting it. The leaders of Alliance and Horde hesitated and just as you might have thought to have gone deaf, the sound of footsteps rushing along the cold floor crafted from metal and bones emerged into the open, quickly approaching.

Within the blink of an eye, a group of roughly 30 or 40 ymirjar had spawn from Angrathar. Wildly shouting and eager to bring death they were armed with heavy axes and maces, bringing an end to many warriors. But it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed too. In a one on one situation they are supreme fighters, surpassed by only the most skillful. But in a battle like this they lack the co-ordination. Yet even in death the ymirjar prove to be dangerous. Often they are accompanied by a maiden of the val'kyr, which will not enter combat, but stay in a safe distance and resurrect the fallen ones as vargul, a wretched, honorless type of undead vrykul.

The blood of those fallen gave the ground a slight red tone as the fighting finally came to a pause.

Bolvar and the young Saurfang took a few steps towards the black Saronite walls.

"Arthas! The blood of your father, of your people demands justice! Come forth coward, and answer for your crimes!" Bolvar yelled at the entrance to the citadel.

Without further announcement the black gate looking like horrible, spiked teeth opened again, but this time only for a single person stepping out of it. A breeze blew through his long white hair, bringing an unnatural chill to the bones of the living.

Slowly the Lich King steps forth with Frostmourne in his right hand, ready to strike at whatever moment he pleases.

"You speak of justice...?" He asked as he drew closer, his armor making him look even more fearsome as you would ever imagine. ".. of cowardice?" Soldiers of both the Alliance and Horde were trembling with fear ready to protect themselves if they had to, but never would they strike first... They were petrified by fright. "I will show you the justice of the grave..." As he spoke these words innumerably many hands burst out of the earth to his sides. ".. and the true meaning of fear!"

Hundreds of freshly raised ghouls gathered around him, only waiting for his command to strike.

"ENOUGH TALK!" The young hot-headed Saurfang burst out. "LET IT BE FINISHED!" He shouted before charging directly at the Lich King, his axe high over his head, planning to indeed end it in this very moment.

Arthas on the other hand, did not plan to dodge the attack. With a single strike he destroyed the axe of Dranosh and cut through the body of the orc at the same time.

He killed him within seconds.

The orcs of the Kor'kron stood there terrified of the sight, seeing how their honored leader had been annihilated with just a single blow.

The dead eyes of Saurfang still open and staring at his soldiers, Frostmourne sucked his soul directly out of the body. Another victim falls to the blade, another feast for the voracious monster.

"You will pay for all the lives you've stolen! TRAITOR!" Bolvar spoke filled with rage, filled with the hatred of generations focusing against his enemy.

"All this stated... but there is nothing you can..." A giant, green explosion behind the legions of Alliance and Horde interrupted the scene, cutting Arthas words clean off. A cloud of gas taking up the area, it blocked the way to safety, the path for retreat. The few people that had been already caught by it fell to the ground screaming in sudden agony.

"What?" The Lich King demanded to know, showing openly that this was none of his work as laughter arose from high up on a cliff directly next to the black gate, overlooking the area.

"Did you think we had forgotten?" The frail body of a Forsaken became visible.

"Did you think we had forgiven?" He asked while the soldiers in the valley below already heard the sounds of the catapults rolling towards the edge.

"BEHOLD now the terrible vengeance of the Forsaken!" His mangled face was not visible under his mask, his robes though giving him away as a grand apothecary.

"Sylvanas...!" Arthas said to himself.

"Death to the Scourge! AND DEATH TO THE LIVING!" The apothecary Putress shouted out as the catapults launched their deadly ammunition into the masses below, no matter who they might hit. Explosions erupted from all over the battlefield, burying soldiers under showers of dirt and bones, followed by the toxic cloud to ensure their demise.

The gas proved highly corrosive and cauterized the skin and flesh right off the bones before it proceeded with dissolving even those. No one would be able to pass through it without getting harmed. Within seconds the ghouls of the Lich King fell to pieces inside the green clouds of acid. Even Arthas himself was forced down onto one knee, but he managed to flee into his citadel barely in time. No one remained to tell how much this poison would affect him in due time.

"This isn't over!" Were his last words as he retreated, already echoing through the dark halls beneath Icecrown.

Bolvar found himself next to the dead body of the young Saurfang, now completely surrounded by the gas. No way out and nowhere left to go, nothing left to do except for embracing death and hoping it would come quickly.

The maniacal laughter of Putress swept across the battlefield by then covered with green fog.

"Now, all can see..." He spoke before turning around to leave the area. "This is the hour of the Forsaken!"

No escape...

Soon afterwards the area was cleared from the corrosive green gas by flames of the red dragonflight, bringing not only purity but even faint traces of new life. But it was too late already. The armor of the young Saurfang was the only thing that could be returned to his father who wept upon the death of his proud son. Both the bodies of Dranosh Saurfang and Bolvar Fordragon had been collected by agents of the Scourge before either Alliance or Horde could seize them.

Yet this day was not only stage for the first larger fight against the Lich King and the betrayal of the Royal Apothecary Society. No, there was more to come. Only a few hours after the flames had cleared the battlefield Varimathras struck out, showing his true face in his own little scheme as he betrayed the Banshee Queen. Together with Putress and several members of the Apothecary Society they orchestrated a coup d'état and forcefully took over the control of Undercity.

Taken by surprise Sylvanas was badly injured and had to flee together with many of her people to Orgrimmar. Supported by Thrall and a group of soldiers of the Kor'kron the weakened Banshee Queen then attacked Undercity, which by the time had already been festering with lower demons the dreadlord must have called forth. The main intend of Sylvanas was undoubtedly to retake the city and return the Nathrezim's favor, although she was sure she wouldn't do it as slack as he did and kill him off properly.

He would get what he deserved for betraying Sylvanas Windrunner. Dealing with Putress would have to wait until the city was back in the hands of the Forsaken, but little did they know that the Alliance would already take care of that.

As they entered the ruins of Lordaeron, they were attacked by seemingly countless demons as well as abominations created in secret by the Apothecary Society. Varimathras had opened several portals to the twisted nether, calling for more and more reinforcements to the endless stream of minions.

As they drew nearer to the Royal Quarters' they engaged doomguards as well as smaller pit lords, the species also known as Annihilan. They are hulking creatures with a massive humanoid torso joined to a tremendous equine body with a flexible carapace. Monstrous tusks jut out from their fanged mouths and a long thick tail thunders behind their huge frames. A mane of fire runs down their backs between sinewy, leathery wings. Most of them carry a massive warblade as a weapon, not that they would need any.

But none of the obstacles Varimathras had to offer for the Banshee Queen and Thrall proved enough to stop them. They reached the throne room eventually.

The dreadlord managed to hold up a good fight for the warchief and his servants as he still tried to call for his allies from the nether, but as the fight took its time the powers and concentration of the demon faded. As he finally dropped to his knees whimpering for forgiveness yet again, he was killed by Sylvanas. Trusting a Nathrezim, even if it was only for a single second was a mistake she had made once now and would never make again.

In the meantime a group of soldiers of Stormwind, together with Varian Wrynn infiltrated the city through the sewers and started an attack on their own aiming for the Apothecarium. They wanted their revenge for the soldiers that died at the Wrathgate and perhaps they could even take out at least one the leaders of the Horde afterwards.

Putress by himself proved to be not much of an opponent for them. He might have been a mad scientist as such, but not a great combatant. He was beheaded before he was able to do any greater damage. Far worse and more damaging to the moral of the troupes was however what they found hidden inside the Apothecarium. In the furthest halls, tucked away deepest into the framework of the city the living discovered dozens of mutilated defiled human corpses which the Forsaken used to experiment on. Realizing that even though the Horde and the Alliance had upheld a truce over the years, the Forsaken were already planning on killing them all eventually, they decided to push for the Royal Quarters.

The chance to confront any of those responsible would have been greatest there. And as luck guided them, they confronted Thrall and Sylvanas next to the armor the slain dreadlord, the only thing he had left behind after his death.

Furious from the discovery they had made, Varian lunged blindly into combat with Thrall declaring that lasting peace would never be possible between Horde and Alliance.

Jaina Proudmoore was barely able to stop Varian and Thrall from killing each other by teleporting the leader of the Alliance and his soldiers back to the city of Stormwind at the last moment.

Old scars had been ripped open again as the Alliance anew declared open war against the Horde.

But before old hostilities would be determining the fate of Azeroth yet again, the Argent Crusade and the Ebon Blade gather the strongest and bravest heroes of both the Horde and the Alliance under their united banner as the Ashen Verdict, to attack the Lich King in his own dwelling, the Icecrown Citadel.

With success the united forces pushed onwards into many victories; Naxxramas, Zul'Drak, Dragonblight ...

But still the Lich King as an entity remains as powerful up until this day. With his strongest servants close by his side, eagerly he awaits the countless souls of overzealous warriors that want to challenge him. Eagerly he awaits the moment to harvest them.

Frostmourne hungers.


	52. Frozen Hearts Chapter 7

_Chapter 7: _

The sun was standing high above the Stormpeaks when I received the note.

I had never gotten a message delivered to me by a skeletal hawk in this part of the world. Neither did Abigore and so he snorted at the undead bird trying to intimidate the creature as it approached us.

I've been travelling the frozen vastness of these rigged mountains for three days now.

One could say I fled from the loud, drumming heart of Dalaran to a more peaceful and quiet place in order to gather my thoughts.

Yet in the end, only little time was for thinking to do during the first day as I used most of it to train my fighting skills a bit against the iron dwarves near Ulduar. Sadly I didn't find a single worthy opponent there, so I started heading east. From the top of a cliff I looked down into a valley where I spotted a huge hole in the ground. The only things I can tell for sure, is that it's filled with strange machinery and that it easily had the size to fit the complete city of Dalaran into the opening. I can't say I found out anything about it. Getting down into was impossible to say the least and so I let it be and travelled to the very edge of the Stormpeaks, where I only found another sheer down to the open sea.

An endless amount of water in front of me, I searched the area for something I didn't know of. I can't really explain why or what, but maybe it's the Saronite finally getting to me after all.

The one thing I actually found though was a hidden camp of the Taunka. Not expecting they would greet me too kindly, I decided to avoid them. An effort I took upon which proved rather difficult as I tried to stay within their hunting grounds. They found me eventually.

Their warriors didn't care too much about me as long as I didn't attack them or steal their bag. As long as I kept to myself they would leave me alone, at least that was what I figured.

Unexpectedly the next day, a shaman of them, together with a small group of four guards, approached me while I was sitting on a boulder staring at the open sea. I have to admit those large, bulky bison-like Taunka looked rather fearsome, but just as their brethren in the midst of Kalimdor they are amongst the most peaceful of races. Besides I doubt that those guards would have been enough to restrain me if I had actually wanted to kill them.

To my great surprise the shaman welcomed me to their village. He actually knew a few fragments of the common language and tried his best to converse with me.

Hell, he even offered me a place to sleep and invited me to eat with them that night under a single condition. He pointed towards Shadow's Edge tied to Abigore's side. The axe would not be allowed inside their village. It was a vile and evil weapon in their eyes, something pure stained by the shadows. Something so very much alike me... Maybe that weapon would suit me after all someday when I might think of it as 'ready'.

I made clear that it was not because of the terms the shaman had made and declined their offer. He didn't try to talk back and accepted the answer. He was wise enough to understand my motives. With a gesture of acknowledgement followed by a few words in his native language sounding like Taur-ahe which I didn't understand, he and his guards left me sitting on the rock where I was. Probably a farewell or a blessing, I can't recall the words. Maybe even a prayer... a lot of people said prayers for me.

It was today, about noon when the crooked bird was coming flying towards me. It landed right next to me, stretching out his leg in anticipation. This... this thing was a truly disgusting sight. It was nothing near a clean skeleton of a hawk. Rotten flesh and even a few lone feathers were still attached to it and yet it managed to fly. I took a moment to look at this hideous creature. It raised its head with the two empty black eye-sockets staring at me, opening the remaining part of its cracked beak to yell at me with a silent scream.

A small note was tied to its leg.

I was careful when taking it, trying not to rip the creature apart.

The signet on the role of paper was easily recognizable - a large black sword giving me an idea of what would follow. The whole text was written in a delightful red, making me wonder if the ink might have actually been what it looked like.

Darion Mograine hereby ordered me to return to the black fortress of the Ebon Blade, Acherus.

It seemed information travelled fast of my 'success' at the pitiful tournament of the Argent Crusade, especially because the Ebon Blade did everything they could to stay away from it as far as possible. Which proved to be practically impossible, I stumbled upon a few of their 'ambassadors' on the tournament grounds. Made me wonder why they had been sent there, surveillance purposes I hoped.

Although I'm not a member of the Ebon Blade as such, or at least that is what I tend to say, I felt a certain responsibility towards following this call. After all, Darion Mograine still knows of my existence and how I helped them to recover Acherus. And as chances are, he thinks of me as reasonably dangerous for this world.

Answering to the call I then left the Stormpeaks and headed for the Howling Fjord in the south east of Northrend. On its coast I would find an outpost of the Forsaken with a zeppelin that could take me to Tirisfal. In Undercity I then took a bat towards Light's Hope. Not necessarily the most efficient way of travelling, but it works for me. I'm not the one who is in hurry, if at all it is Mograine.

And here I am now, high above the western plaguelands on my way to the black fortress as I take a look at the lands below that have been forsaken by the light, minions of the Scourge roaming them restlessly for years now. The eastern plaguelands don't look any better either, though less populated with undead and more home to even more wretched creatures.

As the bat lands directly next to the chapel of Light's Hope, a member of the Ebon Blade is already awaiting my arrival.

He speaks his greetings in a fairly direct fashion without any hidden denotations. It's good to meet somebody who behaves unconditionally towards one every once in a while. I guess that's one of the main reasons for most death knights to join the Ebon Blade. We all are equal in our derivation – children to death itself.

A skeletal gryphon is readily waiting to take me up to the flying fortress, reminding me of Naxxramas. It's been quite a while since the last time I had been in Acherus.

Darion Mograine still resides in the middle of the lower level, although I guess it is only a matter of days now until he moves his position to Northrend.

Surrounded by bookshelves he stands waiting for me.

He appears busy talking to a group of lower death knights, but turns his head towards me as soon as I approach him.

"Begone!" His dark voice echoes out to the lower ones and at the sign of his hand they retreat in a fast pace without any further word. "We know much about sacrifice." He states as a delightful greeting. "Are you ready to sacrifice even more? This question you had to ask yourself... And today is the day when you shall answer. Greetings Malevolence"

I shortly nod in response to him. He knows that I don't like to talk that much at least I guess he should remember.

"We have been keeping track of your actions lately. I am pleased to see your progress and the success at the tournament..."

I interrupt him bluntly by asking "What?"

"Patience is a virtue; one I no longer possess, so it would be advisable to restrain your tongue, no matter what you have done for us or might do in the future." He makes a short pause, again falling for the old reflex to take a deep breath. "Yes we have been watching you. It was only advisable for you are the bearer of the axe, nonetheless."

I open my mouth to speak, but the only thing I can manage to say is a short "Bearer of the axe?"

"I see, you still haven't found out for yourself. So be it then." he speaks slowly.

"Found out what?" I inquire of him with a pressing tone, slowly starting to feel provoked.

"The weapon you are carrying, the axe I left in your possession, death knight. I think you named it bluntly 'Shadow's Edge' according to what you felt when you saw it for the first time." He looks at me with his eyes narrowed. "SUMMON IT!" He bellows at me "The deathcharger you keep it by! NOW!"

I'm taken aback by this command, but I follow his orders immediately. Something about this situation is strange. I don't see how any of this makes sense and that is probably the reason why I follow the command without thinking, I want to know what he is talking about.

Abigore comes into this realm with a shriek like of a banshee, the axe tightly fastened to his side.

I slightly pet my steed on its head as a greeting as he moves a few steps closer up to me.

Shadow's Edge is overflowing with energy it has collected from the realm of shadows. It is shining in a bright violet glow, leaving it barely visible, black waves pouring out of its blade into this world. It sucks up the light around us, siphons it away and for a moment it seems as if it the world around us is growing darker.

"Do you see it now? Do you see the relentless power it yields?" It is as if you can hear a faint laughter coming from Mograine. "Do you start to understand what you have in your possession? It is an artefact as pure as the shadows."

My eyes are still fixed to the axe as Mograine continues talking. It has grown.

"We don't know if it was created as a test, pure chance, a jest of fate or as a malicious scheme. The only thing we truly know is it been forged from the purest Saronite one can find deep in the mountains of Icecrown, combined with special titanium to add strength to the blade and then etched with the acidic blood of the most horrible abominations the army of the Lich King contains!" Darion glares at the blade of the axe. "Light's Vengeance, the hammer Arthas once wielded as a paladin, was used to frame this weapon."

Slowly the energy pouring out of Shadow's Edge is fading.

"Yet this axe is far from being finished. Maybe they realized what they were about to create and backed off from their undertaking at the last possible moment."

Mograine points at the blade.

"It feeds."

As if Abigore starts to understand what Darion is talking about, he grows uneasy.

"It feeds upon the shadow ... upon magic and upon mortal souls." I swallow upon hearing these words.

"Thus is why I have called you here. It is against my judgment that I present you this errand, death knight, as it will likely end in your undoing. Ignore my council and embark on the endeavor, and I shall provide you with the knowledge and resources to see it through." It is almost as if he is smiling at me with a foul grin, invisibly from under his helmet.

I just stare back at him for a short moment, trying to grasp what he has just said and prepare for anything what he would else unleash upon me. Not knowing how to react I turn my head to the weapon I've had by my side for so long now, but this time I feel something like dread as I see how the last waves of shadow energy flow out of it.

"Listen well, Malevolence. In accepting this weapon your fate has been sealed. This is a vessel for power, a containment of pure, vile energy." He makes a short pause, the bright blue eyes glaring at me.

"Overcome or succumb!"

I hesitate to answer Mograine. Still this weapon might be exactly what I have been looking for – the tool to bind my fury and extract my revenge. Darion knows how much hatred I feel when thinking of Arthas. He knows that my only goal is retribution. And he also knows how to make good use of this. I look to the floor for a second trying think, but the ghosts of my past won't let me. They want their peace just as much as I want vengeance.

From one second to the other my mind is blank like a white sheet of parchment.

I look up to Darion and nod to him.

"Tell me..." I demand. "Tell me what else I need to know."

It seems that doomsday has come early this year.

"I have placed your feet upon this path. You are therefore my personal responsibility. Should you falter, I am duty-bound to deliver you from this life. Remember these words, death knight."

He may sound relieved, but at the same time also filled with remorse.

"Even now Shadow's Edge is among the greatest weapons one could obtain." His gaze is penetrating.

"Take it! Take it now and do not tally!"

As I untie the mighty two-handed axe I already feel how much energy it still contains merely by grazing the hull of this supposedly empty vessel. This weapon is not even close to being finished and still it can hold energy this large without losing any more. It had grown on its own indeed.

The moment my fingers wrap around its handle, I leave behind all my worries and qualms for a blink of an eye. Immediately I feel how the shadows inhere in this weapon, how they cycle through it, claiming it as their property.

And still... it feels so... empty.

"Do you feel the lust for power growing? Or might it even be that this weapon proves to be too much for you?" Darion asks me with a pressing tone.

I stare at the weapon and start to wonder what this axe might be capable of at full strength. A thought that then clinches to my mind. I actually start to want to wield it.

I have no need to answer his question.

"I thought not. A final warning then... You now embark on the most treacherous leg of your quest. Bridle your aspirations, for if your aims are impure then your life, your very soul, is forfeit. The weapon you now hold is but an empty husk, a mere shadow of what it may become, as you probably know by now."

For the first time since the beginning of this conversation Darion comes closer to me and the weapon in my hands, shortly reaching out for it by himself, but retreating his hand before it would touch the axe.

"The weapon you are about to create will be similar to the monster we know by the name of Frostmourne. Only by devouring a thousand souls its true potential shall be unlocked. But keep in mind..." His voice grows louder, more urgent. "...every soul you take, you devour with this weapon will make it stronger, but it shall also have its price. For every time the blade on this axe feeds upon an enemy, it will also take a part of your soul."

Mograine looks me deep into the eyes.

"This will be the sacrifice you have to make and the first step you have to take on your journey."

The words echo in my mind as I look at Shadow's Edge.

"Steel yourself and guide this weapon to fulfill the purpose of its creation. Bring rest to the tortured souls the Lich King has stolen."

Abigore jumps as I put the axe again in the handle along his side. I am able to calm him down easily... for it would only be there for another minute.

Filled with sorrow and the sting of regret I take Armageddon off my back and look at the mighty and heavy blade. It has served me well in many fights. Not many would be capable of using a weapon like this as skilled as I did. It may not be as precise as a dagger, but usually it did the trick nonetheless.

Approaching Darion Mograine with hesitation, I hand the sword over to him. A moment that stretches out far beyond the borders time has set for us.

"I will not need this anymore..." I say to him in a low voice, my hand still rested on the blade. It is the silent farewell to the old and trusted friend. Just as if I had just witnessed a companion dying next to me on the battlefield.

I step back to Abigore and take the cursed axe off his side, releasing him from this burden.

"The next time we will meet, Malevolence, will be when the charge against the black citadel will begin. Prepare yourself for that day. Our eyes now lie upon you. A shadow of hope remains."

The warnings of Darion once again go through my mind as I dismiss Abigore and leave him.

"Harness your hate! Make good use of it, brother. Suffer well..."

Not that I wouldn't care, but I am far more focused on the possibilities that were revealed to me only minutes ago. I just received exactly what I needed to fulfill my goal.

Maybe, just maybe, I will be able to find peace this way.

And just like this destiny will take its course.

I make my way back to the balcony where I had landed with the skeletal gryphon. For now I will go back to Northrend and wait for the Ashen Verdict to make their move.

The time for bloodshed has come once more.

As I mount the undead animal that will take me to Undercity I let the words of Mograine echo through my mind again.

I already offered parts of my soul to the shadows a long time ago...

We will see if there is anything left for Shadow's Edge to take.


	53. Frozen Hearts Chapter 8

_Chapter 8: _

Every time I've been in the Undercity after the events of the Wrathgate took place and the coup d'état of Varimathras had been foiled only shortly later, I felt a certain sting in my rotten heart.

After taking the ruins of Lordaeron again for the Horde and the encounter with Varian Wrynn in the throne room of Sylvanas renewing the hostilities between Alliance and Horde, the Kor'kron discovered that the words the king of Stormwind had spoken proved to be the truth. They found out about the maltreated bodies of humans as well as orcs which the Royal Apothecary Society had used for their more or less secret experiments and so the warchief started to become wary of the situation. Matters being pressed further and further by the young Hellscream, a leash had to be put around the Forsaken's neck.

Knowing that excluding the Forsaken from the Horde was not a viable option at the moment the Warchief gave order that all the abominations under the control of Sylvanas guarding the city had to be removed immediately. And instead a group of Kor'kron soldiers took their place. The only areas that are still guarded by the huge bulking abo's are those where none of the orcs was willing to go, the sewers for example.

Concerning the Royal Apothecary Society, Thrall found it appropriate to send a group of special overseers especially for them, in any way better than burning the laboratories.

Orcs in Undercity... what a disgrace!

The only citizen who was happy about this development was Kaal Soulreaper, but even he changed his mind rather quickly as they started to intrude his working chambers and confiscated several of his books as well as a few vials of demon blood he kept for himself.

For a greater good they said. How laughable...

Now you meet an orc at every corner of the city, 'Lok'tar Ogar' echoing loudly through the halls disturbing the fond peace and quiet silence the Undercity called its own.

No more of that to be found here...

One can only hope this occupation by the Kor'kron will end soon, even though I'd wonder if this moment would ever come.

Yet on the other hand, personally I didn't notice too much of it if I'm honest. But I had my own confrontations with members of the Kor'kron and the Warsong Offensive in Northrend often enough. Most of them occurred during the time I spent in Agmar's Hammer, the Horde's base of operation in the Dragonblight; a time many weeks before I began to even appreciate Shadow's Edge's growing features, weak as they may have seemed.

Originally I went there out of pure morbid curiosity. I wanted to find out whether the rumors about a certain death knight that had come to my ears were true or not.

I hadn't met either Koltira or Thassarian since the day we had been set free and fought for Acherus together. Both of the fools seemed to have had vanished completely from the face of the earth. But soon after I had arrived in Northrend pursuing my own fate, word was spreading of a skilled death knight at the outpost in Dragonblight. After a bit of further research - forcefully, I have to admit - I found out the person these rumors spoke of was supposed to be a bloodelf. This was the moment when I finally started to wonder if it might actually be puny little 'Deathweaver' I had stumbled upon so accidentally. I just had to find out.

I came to Northrend with the zeppelin from Tirisfal and arrived in the outpost of the Forsaken called Vengeance Landing. From there a wyvern took me over the frozen planes of Dragonblight. This may not have been my very first visit to the Frozen Wastes, but one of the earlier ones so I was not properly informed about the state of things in Agmar's Hammer.

Agmar is the name of the orcish overlord in command there, quite the despot as I found out a bit later as I walked through the camp hearing laments of many orc slobs. Together with his two wolves Lak'tuk and Gar'mak he resides inside the small stronghold of the outpost, reigning over his little kingdom with an iron fist. He views himself as an envoy of Garrosh Hellscream.

'His voice is life and his voice is death.' he preaches to his servants.

Hellscream and he are pretty much alike. They don't care about possible consequences. Both of them would do whatever it takes to reach their goals - straight forward brutes, yet also intelligent and most of all ruthless: makes them rather dangerous if you'd ask me.

Still, it was not he who I got in trouble with that time. I didn't even meet 'Overlord' Agmar on that day. But I ran into an orc named Valnok Windrager instead.

Most of the time on duty he was standing around waiting for orc soldiers to come running up to him who he could then tell what to do. You just have to love orcish lieutenants, generals or whatsoever from the commanding tier. Quiet observers at first, but only for about a split of a second and if you make a sole move, may it be the right one or the wrong one does not matter, they let hell loose upon you. I already had a faint idea what would happen if I asked that self-important green-skin where to find the rumored death knight in this camp so I just wanted to pass by quickly.

"Lok'tar Ogar!" He grunted towards my general direction as I had already gone passed him.

No open eye for my surrounding in that moment I just kept on walking, hoping he had meant another one of his soldiers. "Yeah..., whatever" I mumbled to myself.

"YOU DARE DISGRACE THE BATTLECRY OF THE HORDE?"

Out of nowhere the orc started shouting at me. How unfortunate that he had heard just that out of all things to catch. To my surprise he turned calm again almost instantly and started talking away about the meaning of that battle cry.

"Victory or death - it is these words that bind to the Horde. They are the most sacred and fundamental of truths for any warrior of the Ho..."

"Aw, come on..." I called out interrupting him. His looks darkened and I already knew that I had gotten into if he had to finish his monologue like this. I wasn't too keen on having him going all out, maybe even frenzy but he was just calling for it. His whole face provoked me, taunted me into pushing my luck. He only snarled at me and kept on going.

"...for any warrior of the HORDE!" You could see the rage in his eyes though.

"Maybe that is where the problem lies..." I spoke quietly to myself but loud enough to be heard, sadly this time he seemed to have overheard it.

"I give my flesh and blood freely to the Warchief! I am the instrument and the weapon of my Warchief!" He almost started shouting at me. I shrugged it off and responded with a mildly bored look.

"That's great..., but I don't want to give my life for YOUR warchief..." I said exactly what I thought. Admittedly not the wisest thing to do while facing a raging orc but he seemed to be one of the calmer ones after all.

By that moment I had thrown all cautiousness overboard and replaced it with arrogance. I wanted to know exactly how far I could push him, but he had already snapped on the inside. His eyes clearly showed that he already knew exactly how he wanted to rip me apart bit by bit.

"Try it." I said loudly taunting him whilst knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"You stinking lump of rotten flesh!" Was the only answer he had for me as he clenched his fists.

Just one more word and I'd have him where I wanted.

"Enough!" A calm, yet incredibly eerie voice arose behind me. Something was familiar about it. "You're pushing it too far, Malevolence..."

Against all common knowledge I turned my head around upon hearing my name to see where it came from. In the same moment the orc hit me in the face with his large green fist as he took advantage of my stupidity. One moment of carelessness and that bastard struck. His blow forced me to make a step to the side into the snow where could do nothing to regain my balance and was ultimately dragged to the ground by the weight of Armageddon on my back.

As I slowly got up again the orc spat next to me onto the ground, barely missing me. "Don't you ever dare to insult the Warchief again!" He grunted as he turned away, clearly not yet satisfied with how the situation had panned out. He would have liked to do so many things to me...

That coward! He attacked me in the only moment I wasn't aware of it and then left. Where was their famous warrior's pride?

Disappointed and angry I turned my gaze away from the orc who was leaving the scene anyway. The fire next to the forge in the middle of the outpost blazing high into the air as I found out who was the one that had distracted me.

I wouldn't have recognized him if it hadn't been for the weapon he was carrying. The outlining of his face had gotten harder, nothing left of his former self and even his voice had changed a bit. The ice-blue eyes were gazing at me, burning their way to the back of my skull.

The world we live in isn't merciful with the weak - he would be the prime example for that.

"Koltira Deathweaver" I said as I spotted the sword in his hand. "You've changed."

He gazed at me for a moment.

"And you haven't..." The tension resting between us indescribable; "Byfrost is happy to see Armageddon again. But I can't say the same thing about you." His runeblade was a beautiful weapon, not a single scratch visible on the light green surface of its upper half, still talking about it as a person seemed rather awkward if you'd ask me.

"What brings you here?" He didn't waste any time with his main question, leaving me no time to think about how to respond. Admitting it openly was not an option, but it wouldn't make any difference either, for I was sure he already knew the 'why'. He really had changed a lot since I had left him standing in front of the gates of Orgrimmar.

The seconds passed without me answering his question or him posing a new one.

"I see..." He announced after a while. "Is there anything else you want to talk to me about? If not, I, as an officer of the Warsong Offence, have more important things to attend to than your little brawls with my lieutenants..."

Officer of the Warsong Offence..? He had to be kidding me. It's hard to believe that this was the same person as the Koltira I had known not that long ago.

I tried to keep my bewilderment hidden away but still kept on looking at him for a few seconds without saying anything at all. Eventually he turned around ready to leave, just as I had done with him. But he wasn't like me, not even now. And so as he had already had a head start on his leave he turned round again.

"Oh... and just so I don't forget to tell you personally: You deserved that hit." A grim smile followed his poor taunt as it covered his lips. The whole time I had been mocking him for his failures, for his weaknesses. By then he tried to turn it around. By then he was the one mocking me.

"And yes, I have grown stronger since that day you had parted and left me standing there alone in front of Orgrimmar. As I walked through the streets alone the grunts spat at me, the peasants threw their rotten food after me. They even prepared to hang me directly in the center of the Valley of Strength." He came a few steps closer again, clutching his fist. "The only thing that saved me from the gallows that day was the protecting hand of the Warchief! You should respect him, you fool. He is also the sole reason why you were spared and left in the service of your wretched queen Sylvanas!"

I couldn't have disagreed more with the words he spoke.

I in the debt of the orcish Warchief..? What a laughable claim.

"Northrend formed you." I spoke out loudly.

"You have no idea!" He rushed towards me the sword quickly drawn and raised over his head. The strike was swift, but not too strong. I managed to block it although it proved difficult due to the sheer speed of his weapon.

"STOP LOOKING DOWN ON ME!" He yelled at me from over the clashing blades with a loud and angry voice, revealing for a split of a second only the glimpse of hatred he had for me in his eyes. And he liked it. He cherished it.

As the weapons had met each other again, a small spark flew through the air - another notch in my blade.

"Soon you will be the weak one! Watch out, that day won't be far..." He said with a dark laugh as lowered his weapon to leave me. "You have it coming for you! And if none of the Scourge will have the pity to do it, I'll take care of you myself sooner or later!" He announced from the distance as he gave me a cold last look from over his shoulder.

I couldn't stop wondering. This wasn't the Koltira I had rescued from the Scarlet Crusade anymore. He had become strong and daring. Enough to even get me excited. He probably had abandoned every weak and soft spot he had had before.

His old self probably froze to death in these wastes of ice and snow. His soul had been eroded by the desire for revenge and the urge for appreciation amongst the members of the Horde. Thassarian probably should have changed in a similar way too.

We all had left parts of ourselves behind for the pursuit of strength. Now his life was actually worth something for a change.

He had finally become a true death knight.

But still, no matter what he said or planed on doing to me - he would always be the weaker one. And I would always keep looking down on him, no matter what.

Because he would still have to learn one important thing:

You cannot defeat someone who had already lost everything.


	54. Frozen Hearts Chapter 9

_Chapter 9: _

Originally I planned on waiting for the Ashen Verdict to make their first move, but as time runs through the hourglass sometime things change. Something inside me told me I still had to settle a score beforehand.

It proved actually rather easy to track down Orbaz Bloodbane thanks to the Ebon Blade lending me their sudden and most unexpected help. They had been constantly tracking him with everything they had ever since he returned to Northrend and he wasn't the type that's too interested in hiding away anyways.

After fleeing from the battlefield of Light's Hope that one day, his bond to the Lich King remained unbroken as the only of us four. He then quickly advanced inside the Scourge into high ranks, giving me also a faint idea where I could be standing right now.

No one who knew him or his ferocious wrath would deny that he had always been the born leader, strong and cruel enough for the Scourge. He was picked by destiny and shaped by undirected hatred for the living to take a top position amongst the ranks of Arthas' legions.

But not only that, the Ebon Blade even found out about replacements for the other three of 'our' former group. A strange mixture of hilarity thanks to the situation and fully fledged anxiety to meet them takes the reign in my mind. I'm sure they are dying to meet me too, and I have the feeling my axe is ready to them their wish.

Some when around noon I took a wyvern from Dalaran to the stronghold of the Argent Crusade in Icecrown. The skies over the glacier are already dark as night as I met with an ambassador of the bronze dragonflight. I greeted him with distance, though ready to do my bidding as we had arranged. He did not trust and I trusted none of the flights in return, although I still hold my grudge mainly against Alexstrasza and her kin for trying to fool me into something that never was part of this life's truth. Nonetheless the dragon in a bloodelf guise as an officer of the Warsong Offence simply tried to help me, so I agreed eventually. His brethren would take me to the steps of the black citadel so I could strike out as I desired.

As we flew over to the fortress of the Lich King, I had the chance to gaze at the different smaller battlefields below between all the ripped apart grounds and dead bodies lingering about, waiting to be resurrected.

We heard constant explosions around Mord'rethar, the gate of death - one of many scattered throughout the whole of the Icecrown glacier; either the Orgrim's Hammer or the Skybreaker must have been unloading onto it yet again. Ymirheim stood in bright flames like a bonfire on a summer's eve as I saw how soldiers of the Warsong Offence charged at the city walls. Inside the surface mining area called the Pit of Saron most slaves had been freed by members of the Argent Crusade and the undead overseers were taken down as we passed over it high above.

The dragon landed in the middle of the large staircase, right in front of the citadel. A small encampment of the Argent Crusade as well as the Ebon Blade had already been set up and a large battering ram with the head of a lion was waiting directly in front of the barricaded door for the right moment to strike it down.

A cold breeze blows into my face, caressing me as I summon Abigore. It offers a strange feeling of home amongst all the solitude and anger not only I sense, but the land below my feet as well. With a short nod I try to show the dragon my acknowledgement for the help he offered to me but the bronze creature rises up into the air as fast as we have travelled here, not seeing any of it as it heads back to the stronghold of the Argent Dawn and to the safety of the established haven.

I noticed how his eyes were fixed to Shadow's Edge most of the time even as we were flying - seems to be more of a threat than the frostwyrms patrolling the air around the spire of the Lich King. Animals fear this weapon. Their instincts tell them to flee, to stay away from it as far as possible! Thus for they avoid me, they loath me. And for a short period of time that dragon carried the same burden as I do always.

Abigore is as fast as ever. Sure-footed he jumps down the large stairs, fit for giants. As we reach the ground level, we are surrounded by the undead nerubians roaming the area, keeping the few crusaders here at bay. More cannon fodder of the army of the Lich King thrown at me. It's not worth the bother. Abigore just rushes passed them as I navigate him towards the east.

We pass through a gate leading into an area filled with blazing forges and undead blacksmiths forming freshly gathered Saronite into armor and weapons of destruction. A skeletal structure of a Necropolis is hovering above us, designed to hold what little future was left for the Scourge.

Entering the area I already know where I would find the replacements of Koltira, Thassarian and me. During the course of the last short day I received another note from Darion supplying me with the information necessary to find them. I have to admit he is pretty good in guessing what goes on in the back my head, he's been the first one in quite a while.

Baelok, Rider of Blood, is the name of my first target. All three of them have these fancy titles 'Rider of this and that'. Even the names of their deathchargers are taken down on the little sheet of paper Mograine has sent me. All of them are supposed to become lieutenants on the unfinished Necropolis above me, Malykriss. I can still remember how I was once promised something similar to that. Or ... not only similar, but the same...

They really are good at collecting information about people, I have to give the Ebon Blade that much.

In midst of enemy territory I get off Abigore and draw my axe as I dismiss him.

Lots of newly found death knight initiates are wandering around the area, it shouldn't take long for them to notice me. And just as I finish this thought in my head, the first one comes charging at me, recognizing me as a threat. He seems to be not much of a fighter though, probably just woken up from his endless agonizingly silent dreams. What a pity that destiny has led his path right across mine so early. Maybe he could still have been formed. With a step to the right as he tries to strike I plunge my axe directly into his chest, easily bursting through his bleak armor.

Motionless the initiate falls over as I remove the axe from his torso with strong pull. A feint white entity is sucked from the body of the death knight into the blade of the axe, denying him his final rest in peace. I feel a slight sting in my body, but the pain is immediately washed away as I notice the increase of my strength. It may not have been much and it may not make too much of a difference at this point but I clearly remembered the feeling. It's been so long since last time...

This was the first time I let the axe lash out an opponent. I look at the blade of my weapon as the last black drop of viscous blood runs down the side. Shadow's Edge just tore apart a piece of armor probably made of pure Saronite and didn't even take a scratch.

Another two of the more foolish death knight underlings come charging at me as I continue on my way to Baelok. None of them takes more than one blow. The souls taken in as a reward for my malice fueling the rush I had missed for so long!

I now can see his steed standing next to a tent filled with bars of Saronite, Bloodsunder is its name.

'A beautiful fiend.' I think to myself as I first spot it. The rider also shouldn't be too far. I turn a bit to the east and there I spot him standing next to one of the forges, gazing at the flames and supervising a couple of skeletons wailing away with their hammers.

I get a little closer as all of a sudden his appears strikes me. At first I think that this can only be a joke but with every step I take it becomes more and more undeniable... the painful truth...

On the little note of Mograine there are remarks about who they should replace. Baelok is the one who took my seat in their ranks. Due to striking similarity to my style of combat they gave him a weapon that looks exactly like Armageddon. But that's not it... My rage bursts out as I see his full height and the long beard. Baelok is a... VRYKUL!

My fist clutches tightly around the handle of my axe.

I start to enrage even further as I see him standing there, the bulky human-like figure, with a long white hair reaching down his neck.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?" I yell at him as I charge at the tall death knight in blind fury.

He turns around and offers me one of his simple battle calls, a scream, nothing more.

Once in motion Shadow's Edge turns out be a strong and swift weapon - easy to handle, but still with a deadly precision to it when you strike.

Baelok barely blocks the first hit with the edge of his blade. With a loud crashing sound Shadow's Edge hits the side of his weapon tearing through it for a third of its width. Within the blink of an eye I can suddenly see open fear emerging in the expression of the vrykul. I almost laugh out loud in my insane frenzy as I see that he is actually making a step backwards.

With a strong pull I free my axe from the clutch of his blade, breaking out a bit more of the sundered sword. I'm sure Armageddon would have withstood such an attack easily.

The expression on his face is sullen as he looks at his weapon and speaks a few words in his native language.

I don't care for his gibberish! I simply don't care what he's trying to tell me!

A vrykul... they compare me with a dammed... VRYKUL!

I dodge his following first attack and strike low. My counter is aimed for the right knee and the axe finds its target with ease.

The blade almost cuts through the whole leg as Baelok let's go of his weapon and drops to the ground letting out an agonizing scream. I don't worry about the initiates around here hearing us. If they see what I am doing to their overseer most of them won't even hesitate to flee judging by their attitude.

Dark red blood covers the earth as the vrykul tries to get back onto his knees. He again says something to me in his native language, a curse or an insult most likely. With his remaining strength he tries to grab the rest of his sword lying only few meters away.

At least his fighting spirit isn't broken already...

"I'll make sure they can't make a vargul out of you, my dear friend!" I say as I lift my axe again for the final blow.

Baelok hurries to raise his sword to block the strike aiming for his neck. I hit the blade a few centimeters above the other 'notch'. The sword isn't able to withstand the power of the blow anymore, the tip simply breaks off and my weapon cuts through the neck of the vrykul almost completely unhindered.

With a loud rattling noise it rolls away still in the helmet, the ice blue eyes wide open, the braids in his white beard now covered with dark red blood.

Bloodsunder the deathcharger looks at me eagerly after his master has left this world to now be a part of my siphoning axe. I pet his head a few times and speak quietly to the fiend.

"Sorry for you, but I already have a deathcharger of my own."

The horse shrieks as an answer not too happy but neither disappointed as it vanishes into the shadows. He now is one of the few freely living nightmares.

As soon as the figure of the horse vanished before me I spot the small pass winding up the mountains to the higher levels behind the tent of Baelok. Somewhere up that ridge I will find the over two.

The replacement for Thassarian is called Sapph, Rider of Frost, with a steed called Icefury. As I reach the end of the path I stand high above everything else on the top of the black Saronite walls on the same height as the unfinished Necropolis.

I hear how weapons clash against each other. It seems I stumbled into the training ground for the not so experienced death knights. As they fight, geists jump around the area, servants for them fulfilling everything they wish for or need - should it be to carry a dead body.

All of them are too far away and by far too weak to be a threat for me. Further to the east I find a long stretched out ledge from which one must surely have a good overview over the battlefield around Mord'rethar.

Sapph is standing at the very end of it, only centimeters away from the edge. It turns out that the Rider of Frost is actually a female bloodelf. So, Thassarian was replaced by a woman? How most amusing!

Her deathcharger stays away from the ledge. Its stares at me as I approach, but remains calm not uttering a single sound. It knows I wouldn't try to hurt it without reason. And I'm sure it's far more intelligent than its master.

As I come closer she turns around to face me.

"I knew you would come." She announces and lifts her axe.

Compared to her companion she has no problems dodging my first attack. She even follows up on her own with a swift strike aimed for my torso. She scratches my armor though, but it hardly inflicts any damage.

She may be fast, but that is all that is to her.

I grab her arm with my left hand and lift Shadow's Edge with the other one.

"Nice try!" A bright smile on her face, a sudden chill shoots through my arm. I look at it not knowing what is going on. It ... it is just as if she has frozen it, frozen solid. I can't even move a finger. Immediately she aims for my other arm with her axe. I'm hardly able to pull it away fast enough... Instinctively I thrust my axe at her side. It's tip gouges through her armor knocking her away sideways. She staggers to the edge not able to find the usual elf-like balance. I walk towards her as she tries to prevent herself from falling from the edge. I would have imagined that this should be a lot easier for her, but maybe she has lost that trait upon becoming undead. Every death has a price tagging along to it.

I give her a little kick against the left leg which finally sends her falling down the cliff. Carefully I look over the edge as gravity does its work, smashing the frail body upon hitting the solid ground and rock below. The moment she has passed away, the effect of her spell wears off and my arm turns movable again. Sadly no soul is left to be collected this time.

All in all a short fight, but I have to admit it was a close call. Still she wasn't too different from the Thassarian I know, a lot of cryptic bullshit for talk, swift hands and no foot-work.

But there is no time for resting, not yet at least.

The next way I am going is following the path along the Saronite walls to the west and then south. Somewhere on ridge close to the citadel I should find Rokir, Rider of the Unholy, and his steed Plaguehoof. Concerning how much Koltira has changed, I am anxious to meet his substitute.

Yet the most annoying part about this whole thing is getting there first. I'll have to travel through the whole training grounds.

To my surprise sand amusement none of the initiates even notice that I'm not of the Scourge. They look at me, bow deeply and keep on training with their partners. That way I actually manage to go about half the way without having to kill even once. The abomination in the middle is the first to notice and attack me. Clearly the fury I once sported so openly had diminished during my time of solitude, but I'm sure it will awaken sooner or later, for the good or the bad of it.

Anyway from that point onwards I have to cut my way through to get to the other end.

It doesn't take me too long to get used to the small amount of pain I feel every time one of them dies to my weapon. Every dead body that falls offers my blade another wretched soul to happily feast on. After I finally manage to leave the training grounds behind I meet only a few more geists that playfully jump right into my blade. One of them actually leaps directly onto the sharp spike crowing the axe.

Done with all the trash I had to face I come closer to Rokir after long last. His physic gives away his human origin as he stands in midst a ground covered in bones.

He has kept close watch over me from the moment on I had begun wreaking havoc in their training grounds. Our eyes first meet as I approach the stone ring around his bony home.

As I continue onwards and set foot onto the layer of bones, something grabs my ankles. The Rider of the Unholy only smirks as he looks at me and how I try to get out of his grasp. He then mumbles something very quietly with a gesture pointing into my direction and hands start reaching up from the piles of bones everywhere around us. Skeletons are slowly digging their way up and out of the earth. There are at least eight of them that try to emerge from their easily disturbed resting place. At least he is a skilled one, not like the other two. Now freed from the clutter of other bones all eight skeletons start approaching me. I hope he is aware that shenanigans like these are of no real threat for me! They are all mere puppets on a string.

I strike for the first one that comes in range. Shadow's Edge separates the upper body from the lower part with ease. With a loud explosion the remains of it explode knocking me over. I almost lost the grip on my axe. Luckily I landed partially outside the bone pit, otherwise surely more of the skeletal would have grabbed out for me.

In the meantime more of them have reached me. As soon as they touch me or even each other, they start exploding like the one before. One of the last blasts knocks me off the layer of bones and into a strange safety of distance. I cough as I get up to my feet. It hardly did any damage to me, except for throwing me around for a bit, taking a spin or two. Seems I'll have to take back everything... he's not skilled, he's just plainly annoying.

Rokir laughs out loud as he sees how I charge directly at him yet again.

As I rush forward I'm able to take two to three steps before the bony fingers are again clutching around my ankles. With a strong pull I tear off the arms still holding tightly to my feet on each side. I hear a faint explosion underneath the earth behind me and keep on going. It doesn't take long for the next pair of hands grabbing a hold of me though.

I strike at them with Shadow's Edge severing them from their bodies. Rokir's eyes widen as I make my way towards him hacking and slashing at the ground.

Not much longer and I will reach him. He backs off further and further to the end of the layer as I keep approaching, leaving his minions no time to fully make their way into this world.

"End of your territory!" I say the moment I stand right in front of him with a short look to the ground around us, before offering him to the blade in a feast of blood. "Maybe you should have become a fire-mage instead. They're also annoying as hell..."

I drag the dismembered body to the edge of the path along the forges and throw it down to the blacksmiths just for the heck of it. That bastard deserved it...

Wiping the dirt off my armor I then continue to follow the way winding down the mountains again leading straight to the cavern underneath the citadel of Arthas. Exactly the way I wanted to go if I can believe the note of Darion.

I will find him down there the parchment says, Orbaz Bloodbane, 'The Hand of Suffering'.

It seems he has risen to be the commander of the death knights of the Lich King. And I guess he is the one who is supposed to become the head of Malykriss once it is finished, if it ever gets done at all.

He really doesn't try to hide away for the slightest bit. I find him standing openly in the cavern amidst of on-going fights between warriors of the Ebon Blade and his own underlings.

I'm sure he noticed me the moment I entered the cavern, if not earlier already and I'm also sure that he recognized me immediately.

As I suspected... he did. I'm greeted with cold laughter.

"So you are still alive?" He asks in disbelief. "I assume you are now a puppy of the Ebon Blade, aren't you? Another fool who turned down immortality for a false hope."

"You missed the most important thing..." I answer as I come closer "I'm nobody's pet! I'm here on my own behalf! You are the one only dancing on a string!"

Orbaz laughs out once more.

"You've never been a piece of trash like the other two... You had the chance to become someone, to obtain strength and beyond your imagination and rise! RISE TO THE TOP OF THE WORLD! To stand at his and my side! But no..! You turned the master down! You disappointed him! And now I will be the one to pass judgment for your treachery!"

Bloodbane lifts his weapon and prepares to strike as I tried to do the same the blades of our weapons collide. The notch my axe hews into Orbaz's weapon is not as large as the ones before, but still remarkable. Yet Orbaz's strength is tremendous, maybe even greater than my own. It feels as if this single hit shattered several bones within my body.

"Be witness to the power the Lich King has bestowed upon me! A power you can only dream of!"

The runes on Bloodbanes weapon start glistening in a dark violet and a nova of shadow energy comes emerging from him. The shadows quickly consume the light around us, pulsing forwards to devour me. Yet things often turn out to be different than expected... Shadow's Edge is drinking the foul magic happily.

"What is this trick of yours!" He calls out as he tries to hit me again now that his magic did not work.

I dodge the attack and strike back on my own. I am able to hit the side of his weapon and break at least a small part off from it.

"You cannot defeat me, you fool!" He yells again but his next attack also misses me. As I try to return the favor, Orbaz manages to block it away with his weapon. That damned thing. He can call himself lucky that it's so long.

"You had your chance as his servant! I will take parts of your limbs and this time you will become one of the mindless slaves!" Again he charged at me directly, but this time I won't dodge. My mind is set and so is my weapon. The blade of his polearm comes rushing towards me as I pull up my axe to stop it. A spark flies through the air before the tip and blade of his weapon finally breaks.

"How did you..."

I immediately strike at him again without warning. The blade of my axe cuts through the side of his Saronite armor as well as most his undead flesh hidden underneath. He falls to the floor holding the wound not to fully break apart, gazing at me as is essence slowly leaks out into the open, waiting to be taken up by Shadow's Edge.

"The master will eradicate you naughty children! Every... single... one..."

He tries to laugh one last time, but is interrupted by him coughing up a few last drops of his viscous black blood.

I've always wanted to fight him, although from time to time I even feared him. I despised him for what he was. And I wanted to kill him for how similar to me he seemed to be.

Now the time had finally come. After a few short, yet intense trades I was the one to wield the weapon that cut him down.

But still what an ignoble way of dying...

The Ebon Blade will soon win this fight down here now that the head has been severed. There should be no need for me to stay.

A bang from above interrupts my thoughts. I hear people yelling in the distance, followed by another bang. This could only mean one thing - the battering ram.

So it finally had begun.


	55. Frozen Hearts Chapter 10

_Chapter 10: _

After reaching the top of the staircase again I take my time watching how the Argent Crusade is trying their best to get into the citadel.

The sound of the heavily working battering ram is filling the air of this part of the Icecrown Glacier until the door finally is burst open with a loud crack. The last line of defense falling, the last stand of Arthas is near.

It doesn't take them too long to secure the first smaller room. The soldiers of the Ebon Blade are quickly setting up a few barricades which are able to hold off the lesser skeletal soldiers that come flooding in, attacking us quite constantly.

It's cold inside I notice, apparently even colder than outside, darkness surrounding everything as it has taken this place as a whole. No light ever comes here. It has been banished from this place. Makes me wonder how many of the paladins by our side are already losing their hope.

Darion seizes me with his eyes, tracking my every step. I don't talk to him, nonetheless. If the things about Shadow's Edge tell the truth, I'm as much of a threat this world as Arthas is.

The rest of the soldiers arrive soon afterward setting up camp, together with the fighters that were determined through the tournament as worthy enough to join the charge at the Lich King we prepare ourselves for the onslaught. Amidst all of them I spot a few familiar faces, Cassiopheia, for example. Leaves me to be one of the first of those to arrive here, even a bit too early in fact, but I guess I was right on time to settle my own business beforehand.

Tirion and Darion are still having a chat off to the side while a few minor supplies are carried into the room, seems this should be our base of operations for now.

The old Fordring then returns to the middle of the entrance welcoming the other arrivals. Without any further delays it begins.

Tirion directs a few groups to each side and takes a step forward towards the corridor up ahead.

"Our march upon the Icecrown Citadel begins now!" He calls forth while lifting the Ashbringer high above his head, chasing away the darkness close by.

It is a foul wind blowing through the hallways then suddenly we can all hear his voice.

"You now stand upon the hallowed ground of the Scourge. The Light won't protect you here, paladin. Nothing will protect you..." The on-going attacks of the skeletons stop for no clear reason.

I listen to him and hatred overcomes me. I try my best to suppress it, but I'm hardly able to. He seems to be nowhere near by, probably another one of his tricks to fool us though.

"ARTHAS!" Surprisingly enough, hearing his former name calms me down a bit. I don't know, maybe it shows me that even he was once human. "I swore that I would see you dead and the Scourge dismantled! I'm going to finish what I started at Light's Hope!" Tirion calls at the looming darkness.

With faint laughter accompanying his words, the Lich King speaks up again, "You could've been my greatest champion, Fordring. A force of darkness that would wash over this world and deliver it into a new age of strife!" He makes it sound as if he actually pities the old Fordring. "But this honour is no longer yours! Soon I will have a new champion." the Lich King continues after a short moment.

Mograine doesn't seem too impressed by all this, whilst Tirion takes another step towards the hallway in front of us.

"The breaking of this one has been taxing. The atrocities that I have committed upon his soul... He has resisted for so long, but he will bow down before his king soon." A vile laughter of him follows.

"NEVER!" The outburst of another person interrupts the scene. "I... I will never ... serve... you!"

I turn my head around to see if anybody might know the other person and I think I hear how someone mumbles something that sounds like "Bolvar?"

The voice of the Lich King rises from the shadows once more.

"In the end you will all serve me."

The moment the echoes of his words die away in these black halls, a growling sound announces the arrival of his mindless minions. Without warning they jump out of the never ending darkness around us. Bone golems, hideous creations, completely made of bones from fallen heroes, with scythe-like arms crafted of unused spines.

A smile comes to my lips as anticipation floods my mind. So many souls to harvest!

Tirion calls out to attack and so we do. The melee fighters charge out at the golems immediately, careful not to run directly into their huge blades, while the casters behind us prepare their first volley of spells.

I'm quite sure Armageddon would also have been quite effective at smashing the bones of these monstrosities, but Shadow's Edge is more than that. It is simply amazing as it cuts through them as if they were made of paper.

As I dodge the blade of another golem by only a few centimeters I cut the creature down. No matter how many of the fall, there seems to be no end to this flood of undead monstrosities. Cutting down another minion his voice is audible anew.

"Your hearts... their incisive drumming disgusts me. I will silence them as I did my own..."

Something none of his servants managed to do this so far.

If you ask me he has grown far too overconfident concerning what had happened to his army during the past few months. But the better for us! With each failure he sends my way I will grow stronger!

Landing strike after strike on my enemies, cutting them down one after the other I can't hold it back any longer. I let out a loud laughter as I take down the next few in front of me with a clean swipe of my axe, absorbing the remains of the wretched soul of a living creature trapped still inside this creature with me.

The threats he offers are idle. Had he fallen already?

He might be strong if you'd have to face him as an opponent, but I think he still relies too much on his servants, his minions. And if I learned one thing in the past ... you shouldn't rely on other people.

_"I see you have returned to me, my child." _His voice echoes through my mind, intruding my thoughts. A hated feeling I had been spared for so long. He seems to be confusing some important things though.

Ever so slowly we are pushing the golems backwards into another barely lit hall.

_"You stumble about in darkness. There is no light here, no mercy! Icecrown has claimed the souls of better heroes than you!"_ The words he speaks sound hollow, almost hapless.

"I don't rely on the light. Consider that next time!" I say to myself and the obscurity close by as I lift my axe to welcome the next minion of the Scourge charging at me.

The next wave of skeletal warriors in this hall attacks us without hesitation. I parry the first attack easily with the edge of my blade and kick the bony figure away so I have more room for my own swing of the axe.

_"I had cause to regret sparing your life." _He whispers to me.

I only reply cold-heartedly, "Then you shouldn't have done so..." whilst Shadow's Edge crashes down onto the head of another undead. My weapon happily sucks the remains of a soul out of the carcass, leaving me with the sting I had already gotten used to.

"Your time has come! And I will be the one to wield the weapon that brings your end!" I mumble to myself.

_"I see you too are gathering souls for your own ends. Are we really so different?" _He asks.

Maybe we are, maybe we aren't anymore. I can't even tell. But now it is too late anyhow... I have already started to venture on this path of fate and there is no turning back! I knew this would not be for the faint hearted and I never considered backing out to begin with.

_"Always you find ways to amuse me..." _The words are followed by a short laughter.

"Your amusement won't last for long, trust my words!" I speak as I take down another skeleton. Their numbers may be extremely high, but they aren't too much of a challenge for me, for any of us.

_"Remember, hero, I too sought a weapon of great power." _Again he tries to show me that were are both the same, that we are equal.

"I'm not like you! Accept it finally! I never wanted to be like you!" I yell at the shadows as I look for the next opponents. And just as I began searching for more the next wave of skeletons and bone golems charges into the room. Taking them again head on, the others who can't keep up with my pace fall behind. As I smash the first skeleton with a single strike, the sting I feel indicates the 'death' of my opponent. This one had clearly been stronger than the others.

_"Look at you, child, would-be wielder of souls. You cannot fathom a power that thrives at my commands." _Once more he is mocking me as we are slowly drawing nearer to the frozen spire, seating of the Frozen Throne.

He will see. I will collect more souls for my axe. Shadow's Edge will grow strong! Strong enough to shatter his armor! Strong enough to devour him!

I keep on rushing forward without taking a single look back. As more and more of his minions fall to my blade, he speaks up again.

_"Take them, mortal, these souls will again be mine soon enough." _He hasn't lost any of his confidence at least. As we enter the next room, I let the rest of the charge catch up to the front row. From here I can spot several strange nerubians among the troops of Arthas. The large undead spiders already try to spray a white liquid at our soldiers from the distance, which seems to harden pretty quickly and forms a kind of cocoon around them. Poor bastards that get trapped in there...

_"Come to me, pretenders. Feed my blade." _He whispers full of cunning. I know that he's talking about the warriors of the Argent Crusade and the members of the troops gathered via the tournament. Most of them are simply too weak to be here. A disgrace for this kind of crusade!

With every undead that falls I become more and more of a spearhead for the charge. Most enemies that face me don't live long enough to be a real danger for either me or the rest of the group.

Again laughter arises from the shadows.

_"Soon you too will have your own blade for a prison."_

I've gone too far to be concerned about this anymore. Reminding me won't make any difference.

_"The hunger that your weapon feels is but a shade of what awaits you. Do you want to see real hunger? Real power? Continue on with your evil. I am waiting." _He speaks to me calmly.

But I don't listen to his treacherous words. I focus again on what lies directly ahead of me, which means another two bone golems that are coming right for me. Dodging their claws is easy once you figure out how they usually try to attack, for they are, as you might expect from zombies, rather simple.

I shatter the legs of the right one, before I take down the left one with an upwards strike. They are surprisingly swift for being undead, but without their legs they can hardly move at all. As the right golem clumsily tries to crawl along the floor I decapitate him with a single blow, claiming his mangled essence as a price.

_"More souls! Yes! More! You will find it hard to stop!" _He turns euphoric all of a sudden, almost yelling at me.

The frozen spire directly in front of me now, I let my eyes come to a rest upon the horrors of the Lich King's creations: A large bone golem hovering in the air with four skulls turning hectically in every direction. The four spikes upon its back look like the remains of wings long rotten away, but I heavily doubt that a creature like this would exist in Azeroth. Not even amongst the faceless ones.

The rest of the group catches up to me and stares at the ... thing ... in front of us in horror.

"This is the beginning AND the end, mortals. None shall enter the master's sanctum!" The creature announces in a strange, cold voice.

"The Scourge will wash over this world as a swarm of death and destruction!" It calls out as it attacks immediately upon us setting foot into its room. We have hardly any time to regroup, forcing the crusaders to use rushed tactics. The blade of the gigantic bone axe it is swinging is about twice as tall as I am. The huge weapon crashes onto the black floor leaving a large dent behind even in the Saronite floor. With a strike from the right it manages to hit two or three of our warriors.

"Languish in damnation!" It calls out as the bloody remains of our soldiers are flying through the hall.

I decide to go right for it the next time it strikes with the large axe. I just have to wait for another few members of the Argent Crusade to be an involuntary lure for my purpose. And just as expected, it doesn't take too long to find someone who is dumb enough to run forward.

With a loud crashing sound the poor bastard is buried beneath the weapon, a leg hanging out the side directly in my way.

I hurry towards the monstrosity to strike at it, managing to land the hit so that at least one of its ribs is damaged. Unfortunately I already have to retreat again as the four spikes on his back shot directly at me, leaving a large hole in the ground where only seconds before I was standing.

Whatever this creature might be, one thing is for sure, it's bones are more persistent than normal ones...

It takes us a good while before we manage to take it out eventually. A few more lives are lost. Some others are lucky to only receive flesh-wounds or shattered bones that our healers can cure without too much trouble.

"_My challenges have strengthened you, champion. You will serve me well." _He announces in my head.

"Serve you?" I ask "I won't serve anybody!"

I receive a few awkward looks from members of the Argent Crusade and the Ebon Blade. For they it must seem as if I'm talking to myself.

"_The moment is soon at hand, you shall toil for eternity in a new Azeroth!"_

The path now leads around the spire of ice.

It winds up a bit and opens up into another big hall. Cultists are kneeling on the floor allocated all around the room listening to the sermon of a Lich. I already raise my weapon as I notice the higher undead hovering at the end of the room preaching to them - an interesting sight to behold.

But it was upon me to disturb their peace! Eager I make a step forward as suddenly somebody is seizing my right arm.

I turn around and look straight into the two green elven eyes of Cassiopheia. I haven't paid too much attention to her since we last met each other after the tournament if I'm completely honest. For a moment I expected wrath or at least the typical annoyance of her, but it comes different.

She looks concerned about something.

"You can't go on like this..." She almost whispers to me, forcing myself to lower my weapon I let the blade of it rest on the floor.

"What are you talking about? Why shouldn't I?" I ask her straight forward.

"You're giving in to the rage. Members of the Argent Crusade already call you insane because some of them believe to have heard how you are talking and screaming at the shadows in here. You might..."

At first I only chuckle as a response.

"So what? What do they know?" I only ask her.

She looks deep into my eyes for a few seconds before she speaks up again.

"I don't see any insanity in your eyes, only loneliness."

With my left hand I remove her grip from my arm while I'm still looking at her.

"Welcome to my world..." I answer in a low voice, already turning away from her.

The blade of my axe scratches along the floor as I rush up to the nearest cultists.

A frantic smile comes to my lips.

Shadow's Edge in my hand is ready and waiting to unleash its symphony of demise.

Soon, this will all be over with.


	56. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

_The end is not far anymore._

_It won't take too long until I will get my long anticipated revenge. Bittersweet justice for all what has happened._

_But still... the shadows of Icecrown bear many more dangers I have yet to face. The new champion of the Lich King - the Deathbringer, the most horrid abominations and their twisted creator, the Blood Queen - empress of the San'layn, and the queen of frostwyrms, Sindragosa. _

_Surely none of these opponents should be taken light-heartedly._

_As we ventured on through the citadel our efforts came to a sudden stop - at least for the moment. The door to the higher levels heavily barricaded, it surely will take some time to break through._

_On our way there, the Lich King never held back with sending cannon-fodder at us. And I wasn't too upset with that at all... Shadow's Edge grew stronger with every soul it devoured. _

_Yet I didn't focus on that, not at all for my own ghosts were haunting me once more. _

_As my runeblade feeds upon the fallen enemies, the images of long lost friends and my family flash in front of my inner eye. _

_My father and mother _

_Corren_

_Keira_

_Darnys _

_Even Calystea_

_Every one of them was hurt, if not worse, because of the Scourge ...because of me._

_I feel guilty for everything that happened to them, a justified feeling concerning at least some of them. _

_Thus I have devoted myself to revenge, to relentless hatred for the one that inflicted all this pain upon the ones that I loved and ultimately upon me. I have told myself only his death would bring an end to my suffering and the torment of so many others. _

_But one question, I should have asked myself at least once but didn't, remained: Is death really the end?_

_Am I not myself the example that death might as well only be a new beginning in these crooked times?_

_Also, shouldn't it be fairly easy to find somebody new to place on the Frozen Throne as the herald of death? _

_And: am I next in line on the way there? _

_Am I heading directly for my own damnation? Again?_

_Once Shadow's Edge will be completed, it won't be any different to Frostmourne. _

_It was created from the same desire that also led Arthas onto the search for his runeblade many winters ago. This path is cursed, cast out by the light. And I can already feel how I am getting bound to the axe with every enemy that falls to the blade. On the other hand, I already knew what would await me, what fate was bestowed upon Arthas Menethil after fulfilling his quest._

_I don't want to become what I've hated the most. _

_I beg that the portraits drawn in crimson blood of those that I loved within my heart will restrain me from venturing into my own demise yet again._

_It has always been clear that there was no glory awaiting neither the heir of Frostmourne, nor the wielder of Shadowmourne, the soul-devouring sisterblades._

_Yet a faint shadow of hope remains in my forlorn heart. _

_I, the lone wolf, forsaken by the light, might be the one bearing the fate of all of Azeroth in my hands._

_Neither part of the Alliance, nor affiliated with the Horde, I stand alone against the prevailing darkness within the frozen wastes of Northrend and my own rotten heart._

_Some people say a real hero dies alone._

_Luckily for me: I'm not a hero._


End file.
